My Obsession, My Possession
by Kyarei
Summary: Itachi had been missing since the mysterious slaughter of his and Sasuke's parents. Now Sasuke’s sanity and life are on the line, and Itachi has only one objective – turning his obsession into his possession. Incest. Yaoi. Lemons/Non-Con.
1. Prologue

My Obsession, My Possession

~Prologue~

~~~*~~~

I looked out the window, foggy and damp as the mist descended from the sky, blanketing the city streets. Moisture clung to the outside of the glass, cooling it against my forehead. The buildings sped by as we drove in the midst of traffic; the early morning smog reflected the grey clouds that hung drearily overhead.

Light rain drizzled and splashed against the pavement and the windows of the car as we continued to drive, and I pressed my face harder against the cold, wet glass. Raindrops flew by and I watched them with disdain, grudgingly reminding myself of the similar weather on the day, six years ago, when my entire life changed course.

The day I came home late from school, and found the corpses of my parents waiting for me.

I remember the paramedics carrying their bodies away, as a policeman apprehended me to stop me from entering the grotesque kitchen where the murder happened.

They were shot, the policeman said, and every criminal in Tokyo is a suspect.

My father had been the Superintendant General of the Tokyo Police Department. He was the overseer of every PD station in the city. Since he had become the General, the police force had gained an iron grip on the crime that littered Tokyo's streets.

He was a target.

And a prime suspect was impossible to find.

I was ten years old when I was sent to live with Kakashi. He was a friend of my mother's, and she had it written that she wanted him to be Itachi and I's guardian should anything ever happen.

But Kakashi never became Itachi's guardian. Because Itachi was never found.

The only thing the police force could deduce from the crime scene was that Itachi was indeed home at the time of murder.

And that someone had taken him.

It never occurred to any of us, not even the greatest detectives on the case, that the fifteen-year-old son of the Superintendant General was the murderer.

Of course not. Itachi was a prodigy. His brilliance was coveted.

But when months turned to years and still there wasn't so much as a sign of finding him, they closed the case. Itachi was declared most likely dead.

When they told me that, it killed me. But after six years I had learned to cope. Kakashi had helped me, and with the support of all the antidepressants at my disposal… life had regained a certain calm that I had long since forgotten.

Eventually, I didn't even need grief counselling anymore. With the past behind, my days consisted of high school, Naruto and Sakura, and the peaceful home life I shared with Kakashi.

I was content to think it would always stay like this.

But I was wrong.

I was wrong about a lot of things.

The car stopped when we pulled into a familiar gravel driveway. The white house I recognized so well looked a bleak grey as rain fell on it violently, and the windows were dark from the lack of light inside the house.

I was home.

Months had passed, but I was home.

Kakashi parked the car and began to exit the vehicle, but I didn't move from my seat in the back. Naruto, who hadn't left my side since yesterday, placed a hand on my shoulder from the seat beside me.

Despite how much I wanted to run inside, and collapse on the bed I had so gravely missed, fatigue and exhaustion were sewn into my muscles. I stayed motionless, staring blankly at the foreboding front door, waiting.

Waiting for my mind to convince me that it wasn't a dream this time. That I was really home, at last. And that I wouldn't wake up in a moment to that dreadful place; that room with no windows and only a single door that he always kept locked. My prison.

But my mind never succeeded in relieving my fears, and my body tensed. Digging my nails into the flesh of my legs, I hunched forward slightly, tapping my foot restlessly against the car floor. Naruto, instantly noticing my mini panic-attack, called my name in a gentle voice that brought me back to the current moment.

I looked up at him, slowly. He was smiling. And the next thing I knew, he was leaning over and unbuckling my seatbelt. I let him. But when his fingers brushed, accidently, against the waistband of my sweatpants I jerked, and pressed myself against the window again.

Hurt, but understanding, Naruto slowly exited the car and waited as I did the same. Kakashi stood at the front door, watching us carefully. I followed Naruto up the little stone path that led to the front steps, each step becoming slower and heavier.

I kept my gaze fixated on the ground, until at last I had reached the top stair and my eyes were met with the bottom of the doorframe. The door was open, and inside, Naruto was taking off his shoes, and Kakashi was placing his keys on the kitchen table and hanging up his scarf.

Unbeknownst to them, my eyes brimmed with tears, and my throat clenched painfully shut. I felt my face heat up and released a shuddering breath, looking in on my sanctuary at last.

Four months ago I left this house on an early Thursday morning, thinking it was just going to be an ordinary day.

And this was my first time coming home since that morning.

~~~*~~~


	2. Ordinary

My Obsession, My Possession

~Chapter One – Ordinary~

~~~*~~~

Rain wasn't an uncommon event for the people living in downtown Tokyo. Coastal winds and warm fronts of air added to the high rate of precipitation and drizzle that descended on the crowded city streets.

High school, like many things in life, was a tedious and monotonous chore in Uchiha Sasuke's eyes. Life was slow; dreary as the rain that seemed to always be falling. He hated it, thought at the same time, he knew that he needed it more than the average sixteen-year-old boy.

Because the childhood trauma he experienced six years ago edged him towards social isolation. Forcing him to attend public high school was one of the best decisions Kakashi ever made for the boy.

And Sasuke agreed.

He'd be lying if he said that he didn't miss the perks of private school. But the things he had gained in the lower-class school system made up for it. His closest friend, Uzumaki Naruto, was the top of his list, but Sasuke would never admit that aloud.

Sasuke looked up from where he sat in his desk, staring out the window. As his eyes searched the grey clouds overhead he noticed a small but definite break, where the blue sky was spilling forth. And for some reason his mind told him, today will end in sunshine.

What is it about the rain, that convinces people it is sad? Why is sunshine the epitome of happiness? Why do children believe that sunny days are happy, and rainy days are sorrowful? As luck would have it, Sasuke's mind had long lost the naïve innocence of a child's. He no longer associated rain with sadness.

Why would he? Weather is just weather. It can't foretell the coming of events, nor can it predict a good day from a bad one.

Sasuke didn't believe in such nonsense. But he did believe in coincidences.

Ironic coincidences.

XXX

The car was sleek; a navy blue. It was clean, with dark tinted windows and shining silver tires. As it parked next to the high school building, the driver turned his head to stare at the man in the backseat; the man wearing a fine suit and adorning a pair of dark sunglasses.

The man beside him, in the passenger's seat, was large and brutish. He was the Enforcer – here to make sure things ran _smoothly_. But from the looks of it, the driver thought, this monosyllabic errand was going to take all day to fulfill. He was grateful, in this moment of unease, that his boss was paying him so much.

The man in the backseat –the one he was chauffeuring– took out a pair of binoculars and proceeded to scan the top windows of the school building beside them. After a moment he stopped, and fixed his gaze on a particular window. He stared for a moment, lingering on it, then lowered his binoculars to check his watch.

"Hidan-san," He said in a smooth, even voice. "Please drive half a kilometre ahead and make a legal u-turn. We're about forty minutes early." and he set his binoculars back in their nice little case, signifying an end to the discussion.

"Of course, _your majesty._" the driver, Hidan, spat with a mocking rudeness. His partner beside him sent him a warning glare, as their passenger narrowed his eyes in disapproval.

"Keep your mouth shut and drive, you bloody simpleton. They're paying us a lot for this," the Enforcer, Kakuzu, muttered irritably to his partner. Hidan didn't appreciate the criticism.

"What did you just say to me, you shithead?!"

"Quiet down," the man in the back said, darkly, silencing the other two occupants. "We're here on a covert operation."

"Right," Hidan said, mockingly again, "Operation Stalk-And-Kidnap some little punk who's too scrawny to be of any use to any of us. Unless of course, we sold him to the brothels. _That'd _give him some value."

The moment the words left his lips, Hidan regretted them. The man sitting behind him reached forward, past the seat, and latched onto his bare throat with a crushing grip. His nails, finely painted and sharp, dug fiercely into his flesh. As the air was squeezed from his lungs, Hidan let out a few sputtering breaths, and looked into the rear-view mirror and directly into the face of his attacker.

The man's other hand slowly raised to remove his glasses, letting his steely, piercing stare terrorize his victim. He glared, spitefully, into the mirror and grit his teeth together hard. Clenching his hand tighter, he took a deep breath and muttered, silently, malevolently, "I'd appreciate it if you kept your nose out of my business. What I do with _my _little brother and of what value he is to _me,_" he clenched his hand tighter, for emphasis, "is none of your concern."

Hidan was gasping, quietly, trying to force air through his crushed windpipe. Beside him, Kakuzu surveyed the situation with a hesitant concern, before voicing his opinion. "Itachi-san, please, don't mind that idiot. His asinine beliefs don't matter anyway."

With a silent reluctance, Itachi released his grip on Hidan's throat and sat back casually in his seat; reclining like it had never happened. While Hidan struggled to regain oxygen, he sent his partner a crude glare and panted, "Who the hell do you think _you _are, calling _my _beliefs asinine?!"

Itachi, who was in not in the mood to bear witness to anymore pointless banter, iced his tone with a frightful warning and said, "Just shut up and drive."

XXX

Sasuke slammed his locker closed, hoisting his backpack over his shoulder. The school was filled with apprehension as summer break was soon to begin, and although Sasuke was not necessarily excited, he was pleased with the idea of relaxing for a while away from all the drama of high school. And by drama, he meant Naruto, who would probably show up any minute and—

"Sasuke!"

Instinctively, Sasuke tensed when Naruto wrapped his arms around his neck from behind in a tight embrace. His weight pulled Sasuke backwards, arching his back against Naruto's body in a very awkward and misleading way.

"Naruto." Sasuke hissed, flatly. "Why," he gripped Naruto's hands, trying to pull them off his torso, "are you _mounting _me in the middle of the hallway?"

Naruto didn't seem to notice Sasuke's discomfort. Or if he did, he didn't care. Sasuke was used to this, anyways. It was daily routine.

"Because I just _missed you so much,_" Naruto drawled in a fake, high-pitched tone. "_Sasuke_."

"_This_," Sasuke pointedly stated, finally succeeding in unwrapping Naruto's arms from around him, "is why people think we're _gay_."

As if on cue, a couple of girls passed them in the hallway and giggled, chatting to each other about what a great 'couple' they were.

"You say that like it bothers you or something." Naruto replied, wrapping his arms around Sasuke again, only this time around his waist. "Since when did you care what people think?"

Sasuke sighed, dropping his backpack and therefore letting Naruto press completely against his back. "You know something," he said, resting his forehead against the cool metal of his locker. "I don't like you anymore."

"Well I _never_ liked you," Naruto countered, placing his chin on Sasuke's shoulder casually. Sasuke just turned his head and stared at Naruto, straight in the eye, who was grinning playfully. "I can see that,"

"What are you two _doing_?" A female voice broke the moment, capturing both boys' attention. Sakura looked at them, suspiciously, although this was not new to her, either. They had always been like this; ever since Sasuke transferred here over five years ago.

"What does it look like?" Naruto asked innocently, though his smile was devious. Sakura raised her eyebrow, hands planted firmly on her hips, and her book-bag dangling loosely from her shoulder. "Anal rape." she answered, advancing on them. "_Dry _anal rape." she pinched Naruto in the stomach, who yelped and promptly jumped away from Sasuke. "_Public, _dry anal rape."

"We get it," Sasuke said, bending over to grab his backpack and once again swing it carelessly over his shoulder with a sigh. "What are your guys' plans this weekend? Or are we saving the celebrating for next weekend, after our last week of school."

"Well, Kiba's having a party tomorrow night." said Sakura, walking beside Sasuke with Naruto on his other side. "If you wanted to go."

"I can't believe it's almost summer!" Naruto beamed, gripping the straps of his bag. "I can't wait. It's going to be so awesome," he looked between Sasuke and Sakura, widening his smile. "We have to party, _every single day_!"

"Get real," Sakura said, narrowing her eyes. "I plan on getting a summer job. And maybe starting my college application folder."

"Oh my _god,_" Naruto whined, dramatically. "You can't be serious. You're such a prude!"

"I am not!" she interjected, "I just happen to _care_ about my future. Unlike you, you lazy ass."

"But you can't work all summer long," Sasuke added, quietly. "You're supposed to relax. Otherwise the whole thing becomes pointless."

"I will relax," she replied, smiling, "I have a ton of books I want to read in my free time."

Naruto made a face like he was going to be sick, as the trio made their way through the crowded entrance of the school and out into the parking lot. Buses and vehicles crowded against the sidewalk and hordes of anxious teenagers climbed into them, barely keeping a civil line formed.

Sasuke walked Naruto and Sakura to their bus, and said his goodbyes as they climbed in; Naruto following Sakura.

"I'll call you later," Naruto said, and Sasuke nodded, turning away when Naruto disappeared up the bus's stairs. The further Sasuke walked away from the buses and afterschool traffic, the thinner the crowd became, until eventually he was walking on mostly a deserted street, save for the occasional car driving by.

Unbeknownst to him, however, was that a single navy car had been shadowing him the whole time, keeping an extended distance.

XXX

"Is that him?" Hidan asked, driving forward slowly, trying to follow where Itachi had previously pointed to when he said, 'there he is'. A kid with baggy clothes and black, spiky hair was walking at an even pace in the direction that no one else seemed to be going. Carefully, Hidan drove a couple hundred feet behind him, intent on not losing his target.

"That's him," Itachi said, in his usual monotonic voice. There was a hint, however, of something more – deeper, huskier. Almost lustful.

"He looks just like you," Kakuzu said, looking through the binoculars. He lowered them and handed them back to Itachi, who took his turn in examining his little brother from afar.

"So what's the plan again?" Hidan asked, keeping his voice quiet even though he knew that there was no way the target could possibly hear him.

"We'll corner him," Itachi replied, putting away the binoculars again. "When he realizes we're following him, he'll try to take a shortcut home where a car cannot follow. I know all the roads and alleyways in this area, so when he chooses a path to take, I'll know exactly where to go to cut him off."

"Sounds good to me," Hidan muttered, driving carefully ahead. Next to him, Kakuzu pulled out a cloth and a bottle of chloroform, readying himself.

Itachi watched in anticipation for signs of Sasuke deterring from his usual path; acting in any form of suspicion.

This was it.

XXX

Sasuke turned his blank, aloof stare up at the darkening sky. Although the weather was quite warm, it had been raining a lot recently. Diligently, he searched the sky for the same break in the clouds he had spotted earlier, but he had no luck in finding it. The clouds had darkened to a foreboding shade of grey, almost ready to spit down on him. Absentmindedly, he pulled his hood over his head to prepare himself for the downpour.

As he looked back to the road in front of him, he noticed how barren the street was. This was a bad neighbourhood; nobody ever really loitered in this area for long. He began to bask in the solitude of the place, listening to the gentle sounds of his footsteps, the whir of traffic a few blocks away, and the gentle rattling of his pills inside his backpack, bouncing as he walked.

And then, he heard it. Quiet. Hushed. But still noticeably there. A soft humming, like the sound of a car engine running. And it was close, much closer than the sounds from a few streets away. Sasuke waited patiently for the car to drive past him; for the sound to either increase or decrease in volume, but it didn't. It stayed at a constantly low decibel, shadowing him.

He was being followed.

Cautiously, Sasuke turned his head to the side, slightly, to peer into the window of an abandoned retail store. Sure enough, several dozen feet behind him, a navy car with black tinted windows was quietly rolling along, keeping a steady distance behind him. He watched it for several minutes, until at last he was convinced that he was being pursued.

'_Perfect,' _he thought, his mind racing to form a plan of action. _'this is just perfect. Why me?'_

His first thought was to stop and pull out his anxiety medication, but that would be giving his stalker(s) and opening. He needed to find an alleyway of some kind – somewhere a car couldn't follow him. He was fast enough, and far enough away, that if his pursuer tried to chase him on foot he could make it to safety in time.

Then, thankfully, his chance came. A dreary maze-like passage that he knew from previous curiosity. It would lead him one block closer to the nearest highway, which was about three blocks away. It was an advantage. A slim advantage, but an advantage nonetheless.

He had only taken this route once, when he was still exploring the area. He hated the cramped feeling it gave him; all the walls were impressively close together. But if it got him away from his chasers, he would live with it. With that goal in mind, he made an immediate pivot into the mouth of the narrow passageway and began the long decent through the grey, damp, dark path.

'_Just breathe,' _he told himself, quickening his pace. _'You have the advantage now. Just calm down.'_

When he though he heard the car racing towards him, he broke into a dead-fast sprint. He dodged trashcans and cardboard boxes narrowly as he raced through the tight corridor; the rain began to fall, and his hood fell from his head, revealing his face to the freezing moisture. The whole scenario was noisy; the splash of his footsteps as he ran, the sound of his ragged breathing and thundering heart, the rain pattering violently on the pavement, and the excessive rattling of his bottle of meds inside his bag.

He thought angrily for a moment, that if he was being followed on foot, he wouldn't be able to hear his pursuers following behind him, not like this.

One constricted turn after another, and Sasuke saw the end of the maddening tunnel. There, at the exit, he saw the empty sidewalk, the deserted road, and the invisible line where the rain was pelting against the soaked cement.

He bolted towards it, emerging at last, and halting his pace altogether. He hunched over, gripping his bent knees, as he heaved from the exertion. When his breath was regained, he straightened himself, and then felt the presence of someone very close behind him.

Without any time to think, a hand, holding a damp cloth, clamped firmly over his mouth and nose. He yelled into it, inhaling the pungent, bitter scent. He thrashed against the body behind him, as his own went lax; his limbs began losing strength very fast.

Desperately, he dug his nails into his captor's hand, but he did not have enough strength left to do any good. He tried to shout – to make someone hear, see, _anything_, but the energy was gone, and his vision was darkening.

He looked at the sky, as his body began to fall into the arms of his attacker, and ironically, the last thing he saw was that same break in the clouds; the tiny ray of sunshine that seemed to reach out for him now. And then, without warning, he lost consciousness completely.

~~~*~~~

**Author's Note: **I think I delayed this long enough, hm? What did you think? As you can tell, this is quite different from my usual writing style. I hope I can pull it off. Thank you for reading!


	3. The Room

My Obsession, My Possession

~Chapter Two – The Room~

XXX

Naruto leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling in boredom. His teeth were loosely clenched around an unsharpened wooden pencil; his scarcely touched homework lay scattered about on his desktop. Groaning, he began to rock his computer chair back and forth slowly, attempting to ease his obvious discomfort.

Homework: the most tedious, wretched, criminal invention in the history of mankind. At least in Naruto's opinion.

His eyes kept moving to the cell phone lying next to his nearly-blank notebook. He promised Sasuke he would call, but if Iruka caught him on the phone before his homework was finished, he'd be pissed. Then again, he could always say that he was calling Sasuke for homework help… nah. He'd never buy it.

Sakura, on the other hand, he _would _believe. But she always seemed annoyed whenever Naruto phoned to ask questions. Mainly because Naruto called her almost every day, and it always took several hours to explain a few basic concepts.

Dejected, Naruto cleared off his desk and shoved all his unfinished work into his backpack for tomorrow. He could always finish it in the morning, before class. Or at lunch. That way he'd have Sasuke and Sakura there to help him.

Elbows resting on the flat wooden surface, he picked up his phone and flipped it open, staring at the pleasant picture that greeted him. Last summer, the trio and their families had gone camping for a whole week in Kyushu near Oita, right on the coast. The picture was of the three of them, Naruto in the middle, Sakura on the left and Sasuke on the right, arms around each other's shoulders, posing for the picture Iruka had taken when the sun was setting over the ocean behind them.

Sakura was smiling, that petit smile she wore when she was trying to appear delicate and pretty. Naruto was grinning, eyes shut and teeth bear, as usual. Sasuke wasn't smiling. He didn't _need _to. Naruto stared at that slender pale face – the way his eyes and hair contrasted with his skin – those thin lips that slightly curved downwards at the ends. He was beautiful, enough that he would never need to smile for a camera. His eyes, black, endless; haunted and bewitched the viewer. Even if he wasn't the main subject in a photograph, everyone's eyes were always drawn to him.

Naruto smiled at the fondness of it, flipping his phone shut again. Just then, a loud ringing erupted from the kitchen next to his bedroom, breaking the home's peaceful silence. Naruto stood to answer it, but as he opened his door he saw that Iruka had already beaten him to it.

"Hello?" Iruka asked timidly, pressing the cordless phone to his ear. Naruto watched in bored curiosity as his foster-father paced while speaking. "Oh, Kakashi-san! How are you? … I'm fine, thank you. … Oh, w-what? … No, Sasuke-kun's not here… I haven't seen him since last weekend. … No, Naruto didn't say anything either. Have you tried calling his cell phone? … He won't answer? That's not like him… … Yes, just a moment. I'll ask Naruto if he's—"

But as Iruka turned in the direction of his son's bedroom, he was bombarded by a mass of blonde hair, and the phone was promptly snatched from his hands. He saw the look of panic in Naruto's eyes as he slammed the phone against his ear, boldly shouting,

"Sasuke's missing?!"

XXX

His cheeks were cold, and his head was pounding fiercely. His temples throbbed; the nerves behind his eyes felt swollen as if he'd been crying. Nonetheless, he opened his eyes only to be met with a grotesque blend of colours spread out before him. He raised his head and studied the ugly blankets he was wrapped inside, noting the soft texture despite the unsightly appearance.

The air was cold, though the blankets had kept his body warm, save for his face. Whatever he was laying on was comfortable enough, even though he could distinctly feel a few lumps from the loose springs inside. He began to sit up, gently caressing the side of his head, trying to repress the pulsing ache.

After a short while the throbbing lessened, and it was then he took a moment to look around the chilled room. Grey cement walls matched an equally grey ceiling, in complete contrast to the thin burgundy carpet that looked old and rough.

He was sitting on a futon, and judging by the smell and feel, it was fairly old. There was an extensive bookshelf next to it, and a small cabinet on the other side. In the corner was a small white box, which Sasuke guessed was a miniature fridge or something.

The room would have been a perfect rectangle, but a smaller room was placed in the middle, giving it an L-shape. The door to that little room was opened, though it was too dark to see what was inside. Another door was placed on the opposite wall; this door was bigger and from the looks of it, thicker. It was shut.

Presumably, this was the only way in and out of the room, since there were no windows.

Curiosity spiked, Sasuke slid out from the covers and walked, cautiously, towards the open door. He felt along the wall inside for a light switch. Finding one, he flicked it on and the little room was illuminated by a soft yellow light.

Sasuke was relieved when the small room appeared to be an ordinary bathroom, containing a toilet, bathtub, and sink for his own personal use. He hit the light switch again, making mental note of the other light switch on the opposite wall that was already turned on, keeping the larger room brightened.

He approached the small white box, opening it to find a few bottles of water. He didn't hesitate to grab one and began to drink from it thirstily, enjoying the feel of cold liquid numb his burning headache. When the bottle was half empty, he set it atop the fridge and faced the foreboding, closed door.

Common sense told him it would be locked, but he had enough hope to try anyways. Latching on to the cold copper knob, he twisted and pulled, feeling his heart sink when the door didn't budge. He tried again, out of sheer stubbornness, and began shaking the door violently. His fist clenched and he started pounding on the hardwood, rattling the knob and attempting the shake it off its hinges.

Then he heard a strange noise. A high-pitched rattling, followed by the _clank _of metal slapping together, and then an echoing thud as something slammed against the door on the opposite side.

Sasuke jumped back in shock, not expecting something to knock back at him. His mind couldn't piece together what on earth could be on the other side of that goddamn door. Something metal, heavy, yet easily moved. Like a chain.

Sasuke frowned, despondent as he realized how trapped he was. Crestfallen he sat on the futon again, casting a disheartened gaze at the ugly reddish floor. Then his heart jumped, when his eyes fell on the forgotten backpack lying next to the leg of the futon. Hastily he plucked it from the ground and began rummaging through its contents. His homework, his books, his pills, his pencil case… he searched them all, until at last he saw the gleaming black object he had hoped to find.

He turned his cell phone on, flipping it open as it came to life. He waited impatiently as it tried to find service, almost giving up hope. But then a single bar appeared in the corner of the tiny screen, and he had to stop himself from cheering.

He opted to call Kakashi before contacting the police, to let him know he was okay. He pressed the numbers with shaky fingers, pressing the cold plastic against his ear.

"_Your current account balance is not enough for this call." _The feminine, automated voice drawled in his ear. Sasuke gaped in shock for a moment, before his hand clenched and he stood abruptly from the cushiony bed-like seat.

"Fuck!" He shouted, throwing his phone against the floor. It bounced once, before landing on its face. And there it lied, mocking him. A chance of escape that had been ripped away. Hope that had been crushed. His last chance, his best plan, ruined.

Sasuke sat again, burying his face in his hands forlornly. It wasn't fair. Whatever fate he had tempted, it surely had given him a divine punishment.

He felt trapped, and against his own pride, frightened. Completely at the mercy of a total stranger who had locked and barricaded him in a cold, barren room. And with that fear came a burning rage and resentment, for now he had an enemy to plan against.

God be damned if he was going to yield to the demands of his captors. If he was going down, he was going down kicking and screaming, and if need be, with blood on his hands.

XXX

Itachi sighed, twirling the liquid inside his wine glass gingerly. The champagne spun in gentle circles, attempting to splash over the glass's edge and spill onto his black dress pants. He watched in contempt, bored and in morbid discomfort that he was wasting time with Madara instead of being in the basement, with his beautiful, sleeping captive.

"Fidgeting won't make time pass any quicker, you know." Madara stated quietly, not looking up from the neat pile of paperwork he had spread out in front of him.

"Perhaps not," Itachi answered, with narrowed eyes. "but neither will staring at paperwork instead of actually _doing_ it, Madara-san."

Madara seemed to smirk in his own, hidden way. "You're right." He stood from his desk and walked around to the table where a bottle of white champagne and a few empty glasses were placed. "But until Kisame gets back with that information, I can't complete the paperwork."

Itachi sighed again, closing his eyes and resting his head against the back of the couch behind him. "I know," he continued gently swaying the cup, finding the motion soothing somehow. "and until he gets here, I can't give him the facts he needs for his next mission…" his eyes opened and he glanced at the sparkling liquid again. "And once I do, I'll be free to go and tend to Sasuke."

Madara didn't say anything as he sipped at his drink slowly, keeping his back to his young nephew. When the glass was empty he set it next to the bottle, then sat on the grand leather recliner opposite of his disciple.

"You know, Itachi, I hardly think the basement is the right place to keep a child. Do you have nowhere else to store him? I had no intention of using that space as a _dungeon._"

Itachi raised an eyebrow at his uncle's inquiry. "It was _your _idea that I keep him there in the first place. Besides, you know as well as I do that there is no other place I could possibly keep him. I apologize that it has to be in your own home of all places," he stopped to glance around the room, casually. "but you're already using this place to conduct almost all manners of business affairs. Plus, I reside here as well. In my opinion, I impose on your privacy much more than Sasuke ever will, considering you never use the basement for anything anyways."

Madara pursed his lips, but did not retort. Itachi had a point, and it _was_ his idea in the beginning. Not to mention he had to uphold his end of the deal, even if it meant keeping a bratty teenager locked underneath his house.

The moment of silence was interrupted by three loud knocks at the door, and at Madara's command it opened and a large, brutish figure stepped inside the luxuriously fashioned room.

"Sorry I'm late," Kisame grinned, revealing his frightful pointy teeth. "got stuck in traffic."

Displeased, Madara took the manila envelope from his idiot employee and began to open it. "I'm not impressed, Kisame. Don't let it happen again."

Kisame's grin didn't falter as he bowed and said, "I'll do my best, sir."

Itachi was standing next to his partner in an instant, shoving another envelope into his hands. "These are the details for your next assignment. I'll only be there to help you for phase 2. Phase 1 is up to you," Itachi didn't so much as cast him a glance as he turned to leave, "Contact me when you've reached that point."

"Right, will do." Kisame watched his young associate heading straight for the door, and decided to feed him a little treat of information.

"Don't waste any time going to see that brother of yours," Kisame's smile widened as Itachi stilled, and Madara looked up from his paperwork in mild interest. "He's awake. And he doesn't sound too happy, banging on the door and swearing his head off."

Itachi said nothing as he walked out the door and let it slam a bit callously behind him.

XXX

It had been over five years since they had spoken. Over five years since they had exchanged a loving glance or touch, or smile.

Itachi felt the tightening in his chest; that swelling in his nerves as he stared at the heavy metal chains criss-crossing across the door, bolted to the wall.

There were four chains. Each had a lock in the middle, that once unlocked disconnected them so that the door could be opened. Itachi reached down the front of his shirt and grabbed the silver key, attached to the chain around his neck. Slipping it off, he began to undo the locks one by one, letting the chains swing and slam into the walls loud and violently.

At last the final lock remained; the one on the door itself. This one did not need a key. At least, not a physical one. Itachi moved to the side of the door where a keyboard was attached to the wall. The numbers 1 to 9 were displayed in neat rows of three – the keys were made of white rubber and nestled against a golden-painted plastic box.

Itachi hit the four specific keys – 5, 7, 7, 8. A small buzzing sound emitted from the little keypad, and then the door made an unlatching sound.

Unable to wait, Itachi grasped the doorknob tightly, taking a deep breath as he twisted the knob and pushed the door open.

XXX

Sasuke had never been so scared in his entire life.

Fear was one thing, panic was another. But this alien emotion was unlike everything he'd ever felt. The pressure building in his stomach – the way his lungs collapsed on themselves, suffocating him. He began to sweat and pant as heat rushed to his face, making his hands clench in apprehension.

In his mind, Sasuke was standing on the ledge of a 30-story tall building, looking down at all the people and vehicles about to watch him fall. Cruel hands splayed flat against his back, whispering in his ear to brace himself, for he was about to be pushed.

That was the fear that grew every time a loud _thud _resonated from the other side of the door. That numbing terror, like he was staring at his own death, smiling at him. Four. Four clicks, followed by two slams of metal colliding with cement each time, then a moment of silence. Then the door made a strange unfastening sound, and Sasuke had to resist with all his might the urge to dive beneath the futon in alarm.

The doorknob began to twist, and Sasuke wanted to scream as he watched it all happen in slow motion. The knob stopped twisting, and then the door was moving, pushing open and a pale light flooded into the already lit room.

Sasuke was frozen in place, as a man stepped inside the room. Long black hair, tied loosely behind him. A pale, slender face, handsome although he wore a strange expression. His clothing seemed casual yet expensive at the same time, as if he was a man of fine taste and luxury.

Sasuke didn't look at him long enough to see the familiarity of this stranger, instead he lowered his head. But not in fear, or shame. The anger from earlier began to overpower the fright, and his hands were shaking as they clenched the blankets beneath them vehemently. He was so blinded by rage; so insulted at being held captive like some wild animal, at being treated like a helpless victim to obey his tormentor's commands.

Busy as he was drowning in his feeling of loathing, Sasuke did not see the man shut the door behind him – did not hear the quiet footsteps as he was approached by the familiar person whose face he had forgotten.

"Sasuke…"

Itachi's voice was quiet, yet somehow, filled with more longing than he thought he could muster.

"What do you want from me?"

Sasuke's reply was direct, but Itachi heard every unshed emotion within. All the fear and hate; he felt it stab directly into his heart. The guilt began to take root, but was quickly washed away by the more dominating emotions the older Uchiha felt.

Lust, desire. Longing. _Need._

Obsession.

"I only want you," he answered, wanting so desperately to touch the boy in front of him. Wanting to reach out and stroke his cheek, caress his skin, kiss his lips.

Sasuke made no move nor gave any sound of acknowledgement. As Itachi was about to reach out his hand to his little brother, Sasuke stood, and in a blur of moment Itachi felt only a stinging pain in his right cheek as Sasuke's fist slammed into his face.

Itachi stumbled back a few steps, then kneeled on the ground as his cheek pulsed and surged with pain. He rubbed it gently, trying to soothe the burning ache, keeping his head down to lessen the brunt of Sasuke's hateful words.

"You sick _fuck_," Sasuke nearly screamed, staring down at the mongrel kneeling in pain. "Who the hell do you think you are?! You think I'm just gonna sit here and be treated like some fucking object you went out and bought?! If you don't fucking let me out of here _right now, _I swear I will make you _pay_. Who are you to—"

"It's me, Sasuke."

Sasuke silenced himself, though his body still shook with rage. He trembled, feeling his legs become weak, as those few simple words rekindled the memories he'd spent years suppressing. A gentle face, the same as his own, with an equally gentle and deep voice calling his name; looking at him with that loving intensity he had so coveted.

The face that was staring up at him now, with the same eyes he possessed. The same face, save for a few gentle creases on other side of his nose. The same nose and mouth and chin, all perfectly shaped and slender, like his own.

Like looking into a mirror, or a photograph he could so easily confuse for his own, he was staring down at a face he hadn't seen in almost six years. That beautiful face he used to dream of waking up to – that face he had forced from his own mind when the pain was just too much to bear.

"Itachi…?"

His voice was so quiet and pitiful. _Pathetic. _But he didn't care, not now. His greatest wish was coming true before his very eyes – fate hadn't forsaken him at all. His only prayer, his greatest wish, his lone dream… to see his brother again, alive, and feel him again. Touch him again. Speak to him again. Hold and be held by him again.

_If only just once._

"That's right," Itachi nodded, and then he was smiling. "It's me, Sasuke."

_If I could have it, if only just once more._

Sasuke slowly let his legs give in, and then he was kneeling in front of his brother, almost eye-to-eye on the coarse red carpet. He felt his eyes moisten, as Itachi just kept staring at him with that same smile on his gentle face, a small trail of blood leaking from the corner of his lips.

"But… how?"

He wanted to reach out and touch him, wanted to prove it was real.

"They said you were dead,"

His voice cracked as he forced the words out, not letting his eyes stray from his brother's smile.

"I'm not dead, Sasuke. I'm alive. And I'm here…"

Sasuke's inner strength began to crumble, as the tears continued to well in his eyes. He reached out a shaky hand to cup his brother's cheek, breathing frantically as he felt the soft – and very much _alive_ – skin beneath his fingers. He closed his eyes as the tears began streaming down his cheeks, and opened them again as he used his thumb to wipe away the bit of blood on his brother's chin.

Itachi seemed so content with his brother touching him like this, as he leaned into the touch. His hand rose to caress his brother's, still cupping his cheek. He stared at Sasuke's face longingly, taking in every single detail and feature. Oh, how he had missed that face… that face that had gone from unbearably adorable to stunningly beautiful.

_That face that was _his _touch and kiss now – only his._

Unable to resist, he leant forward and pressed his lips almost nonexistently to his brother's cheek. Sasuke either didn't notice or didn't mind, because he sat still and let his brother shower devotion and physical comfort on him.

Itachi's lips moved to his brother's temple as he wiped away all his tears, moving down to kiss his cheeks and jaw. Sasuke suppressed a shiver, feeling those cool lips moving across his burning flesh.

"Itachi… I don't understand. Where have you been? Why didn't you come home? Why did you let everyone think you were dead?" Itachi moved away from his little brother's face, to look into his eyes again. "What did you mean by, 'I only want you.'?"

Sasuke shivered visibly this time, as Itachi's smile morphed into a kind of playful smirk. But not the kind from his memories, no, this smirk seemed ill-natured, almost threatening. Itachi's hand was on his cheek again, moving up and down so slowly, it made all his anxiety spike to its peak.

"This," Itachi whispered, so quiet that Sasuke had to strain to hear. But he had no time to process his brother's words, no time to wonder what it all was supposed to mean, because as soon as that tiny word had been uttered, Itachi's lips descended on his own, pressing firmly together.

Sasuke didn't move, didn't make a sound, didn't even show any sign of comprehension. His body had tensed; his confusion had multiplied, but the actions of his brother gave him no conclusions or answers.

Itachi watched the emotions race in his brother's eyes, almost dejectedly. Sasuke wasn't responding. He was frozen.

Determined for acknowledgement of his claim, Itachi grabbed Sasuke's shoulders and pushed him against the edge of the futon, letting his little brother's upper back support both of their weights as he pressed into him. Sasuke began to struggle beneath him, pushing against him with both hands, clawing at his shirt in hysteria.

Itachi released his brother but remained in his personal space, watching Sasuke regain his breath with vivid fascination. Sasuke panted, exhaling and inhaling feverishly, bringing a hand to wipe away at his mouth in a gesture of disgust.

"What… what the hell are you doing?" Sasuke gasped, staring into his brother's eyes with that same feeling of undeniable fear overpowering his body.

"Why did you just… _kiss _me…? And why did you lock me in here?" Itachi's passive face did not change, fuelling Sasuke's anger and anxiety. "Why won't you answer me?!"

"The past doesn't matter now, Sasuke. We're together. That's all that matters."

Itachi let a hand reach up to caress his brother's jaw line, feeling the contour of his lips with the tip of his index finger, watching his lips part in shock as that finger came so close to entering inside that moist cavern.

"I won't let you go again," he whispered, shifting his gaze to Sasuke's wide, terrified eyes. "Not anymore. I promise Sasuke, nothing's going to separate us now. Even if I have to keep you locked up in a cage," Itachi bent forward to kiss the side of his neck, breathing a gust of hot air against the slightly damp skin. "I promise."

"Locked up…? Itachi, you're not serious." Sasuke stated, though his voice seemed pleading in Itachi's ears. Itachi began kissing his brother's neck, moving down to his collarbone, keeping a hand on his chest to keep him steady, feeling his heartbeat racing madly.

Sasuke breathed to try and calm his nerves; his pounding heart. But all of his logic and sense was being sucked from him by his brother's fiendish mouth, sucking on the skin beneath his neck.

"Stop it!"

Again, the right side of his face was abused by his little brother's angry fist. Itachi moved a few places back, but didn't bother to comfort his bruising face. He watched Sasuke pull his knees up to his chest, yanking on the collar of his shirt to hide his exposed skin. All the while his eyes were wide in terror, following Itachi's every move.

As Itachi was about to reach out and console his frightened brother, his cell phone began buzzing relentlessly in his pocket. Aggravated, Itachi fished the item from its confines and checked to see why it had alerted him. A message greeted him, clearly from Kisame stating that phase 1 was complete.

Frowning, Itachi stuffed his phone back into the pocket and stood from the floor, absentmindedly stroking his sore cheek.

"I have to go, Sasuke. I'll be back later. You'll have to wait for dinner until then," he cast a longing glance at the bundle of fried nerves shivering on the floor by the bed. "Be a good boy. I won't be too long." He was almost to the door when he heard Sasuke stand from his spot on the ground.

"No, wait! Don't lock me in here—!!"

But Itachi had already shut the door, as Sasuke began beating on it in bitter panic, yanking on the handle with all his strength, trying so desperately to pull it open.

His heart sank when the cursed metallic sound met his ears of the chains being hooked back into place.

XXX

**Author's Note: **Hi guys, sorry about the long wait. First of all, I want to thank everybody who reviewed and favourited this story from the bottom of my heart. Thank you so much! I was so pleasantly surprised. :') Secondly, I wanted to make this chapter longer but I didn't want to delay it anymore. So here's my question to you: Do you prefer faster updates and shorter chapters, or slower updates and longer chapters? Thanks for reading!


	4. Doubt

My Obsession, My Possession

~Chapter Three – Doubt~

* * *

His footsteps echoed ominously as he followed the other men down the long, twisting hallway. Iruka beside him, Kakashi beside Iruka, and the frightening detective – Ibiki Morino, leading them down to the head of the Investigations department. His fists shook and clenched anxiously as he swallowed the lump in his throat again and again, his skin crawled and twitched with fearful apprehension of everything going on around him.

Naruto followed silently, though inside his head there was an endless whirlwind of screaming and cursing. No matter how many times he ran it over in his mind, he just couldn't comprehend that Sasuke was _gone _and someone had _taken him_ and for all anybody knew, he could be dead out there somewhere after being mauled by some perverted psychopath. His fists clenched again, sweat gathering on his brow. Naruto had never been so scared in his entire life.

_This isn't happening. This isn't happening. It's just a bad dream. Just a very bad dream. GOD DAMN IT SASUKE, WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE _YOU_?__  
_

Sympathetically, he glanced up at Kakashi. The man had always been so perfectly calm, laid-back, and peaceful in that dry humouring way. But now he walked with a hunch in his shoulders; his footsteps fast and sharp and his eyes dark, like he was planning on throwing somebody in a lake with their hands and feet tied to a piano. Maybe he was. The idea of doing that to whoever had taken Sasuke was delighting even Naruto.

Finally a large brown door signified the end of the mazelike hallways. The detective opened the door solemnly, moving aside to let the other three enter first before closing the door behind him. He took a seat at his desk as the others sat in the chairs opposite him, pulling out a large file from his desk drawer with a grim and painfully serious expression on his face.

"Generally, we don't deal with Missing Persons reports until the subject in question has been gone for 24 hours with no contact, especially if they're a minor." he placed the file on the desk and opened it, quickly scanning the first page with a critical eye. "But because the subject is Sasuke Uchiha, we've decided to begin the search immediately."

Kakashi gave an appreciative nod, but Naruto didn't loosen up at all. He wouldn't rest or relax or even _breathe _until he knew Sasuke was all right, that he was safe. And if Fate was cruel and Sasuke was already seriously injured or worse, Naruto wouldn't rest until his tormentors were left bleeding and dying on the train tracks somewhere, strapped down and naked and pleading for their lives.

He was _pissed._

"We tried contacting the school, but the office has already been deserted for the day. I left a message and I'll be sure to call again first thing in the morning. But until then, I need to know when all of you saw Sasuke Uchiha last." he glanced at Kakashi, and then Iruka. Iruka was silent, but Kakashi spoke up, "I last saw him this morning when he left for school, at about… 8 o'clock. I haven't spoken with him or heard from him since."

Ibiki gave a curt nod, then gazed over at Iruka, but his glance was interrupted by Naruto raising his voice, sitting between Iruka and Kakashi.

"I was at school with him all day. He walked me and our friend Sakura-chan to the bus, but Sasuke always walks home. So when we got on he left, and that was the last I heard from him…" Naruto was quiet for a moment, then his voice gained an octave. "Maybe Sakura-chan's heard from him?"

"You should call her," Iruka said very quietly, his voice sounding weary. "In case Sasuke tried to contact her at all."

"I already called Sakura's mother, she asked Sakura if she'd heard anything. It was a dead end on that lead." Kakashi replied, sounding suddenly a lot more depressed then he was a few minutes ago.

Ibiki was silent and still for another moment, then stared hard at Kakashi. "Did he have any possible reason for running away? A fight between you two, perhaps?" Kakashi shook his head, replying "No, we rarely even argue, let alone fight. Nothing happened between the two of us or at home."

Ibiki nodded, then looked at Naruto. "And at school?"

"He's been normal lately… nothing different about him… I mean, he didn't seem depressed, y'know? He even talked about looking forward to summer break!" And for Sasuke, who rarely expressed joy, looking forward to something even a little was a big thing when he shared it with Naruto and Sakura. At least Naruto thought so.

Ibiki sighed, but nodded his head once more. He flipped a few pages in the file, skim-reading a little here and there. When he raised his head, he looked directly at Kakashi again. "I'll dispatch a squad to check the route he normally takes home, in case he's lying there injured or something similar. Do you know the way he goes?" and he pulled a map from his vest pocket, spreading it over the surface of his desk.

"I do." Naruto said urgently, standing to inspect the map with a careful eye. It took less than a minute for his eyes to spot their high school, and he grabbed a pencil from the mug next to him and carefully outlined the roads and turns that Sasuke walked every day to school and back.

"He always takes the same roads. It's a shitty neighbourhood, y'know? He didn't bother to really learn the other ways. At least not that well."

After a quick glance, Ibiki refolded the map and held it in a tight hand while Naruto took his seat. He glanced at his watch, pursing his lips slightly. "It's already quite late. It must be dark by now, so there's not much else we can do until morning. I'll send someone to check this area briefly and then first thing in the morning, we'll do a thorough search." He stood from his chair, still holding the map. "If anything comes up, I'll contact you immediately," and he was looking at Kakashi, a professional calmness in his face. "and tomorrow you'll be hearing from me first thing."

Kakashi nodded and stood, "Could I wait here until the squad gets back from looking? Just in case."

Ibiki nodded and walked to the door, opening it. "I'll take you back to the exit. You can wait in the lobby there until they get back."

Kakashi mumbled a quiet thank you as he followed Iruka and Naruto out the door, waiting for Ibiki to take up the front again. He was worried, frightened even. He knew he would never forgive himself if something terrible happened to Sasuke.

Iruka turned to look back at Naruto, a falsely cheerful smile on his face. "Let's go home, Naruto. It's late." He dropped the smile and looked to Kakashi, "If you need to talk, or if something happens, please don't hesitate to call or stop by. No matter how late."

Before Kakashi could answer him, Naruto was facing him with a blazing intensity in his whole body. "If _anything _happens, anything at all, I wanna know. Right away." His face was determined and left no room for arguments.

So Kakashi merely nodded, closing his eyes with a sigh. "I will."

* * *

Itachi was careful unlocking the chains this time, careful to hold them in his hands as he lowered them to the wall, so they would not crash and awaken his potentially sleeping brother inside the room.

When all the chains were unlocked and quietly left to hang beside the door, he swiftly entered the manual lock code and bent down to pick up the tray of food he had brought for Sasuke. The door clicked unlocked, and balancing the tray in a single hand, he opened the heavy door and entered the darkness.

He stood silently for a moment, letting his eyes adjust. When he could see most things, he walked to the other side of the room and set the tray on the miniature fridge. Once his hands were free he stretched, loosening his muscles and suppressing a yawn, turning around to stare at his sleeping little brother with a gentle smile on his face.

Sasuke lay curled up on top of the comforters, his body facing Itachi, his hands tucked in loose fists next to his head. His skin was littered with goose bumps from the chilly basement temperature. Itachi swallowed, suddenly feeling a bit nervous and excited that he was alone with Sasuke, who was laying there looking as vulnerable and delectable as ever.

He took a step forward, gazing adoringly at his brother's lovely face. The cement beneath the carpet made no sound as he moved, ensuring that Sasuke would have the utmost surprise when he awoke to Itachi's presence. When he stood directly next to the bed, he noticed something a bit out of place. There, lying underneath one of his brother's hands, was a plastic rectangular device. Black, sleek, and completely out of place, as far as Itachi was concerned.

Surely, his brother knew that his cell phone was no longer of any use to him. One of the advantages to being in a criminal organization was meeting criminal geniuses, and Zetsu, a technological mastermind, was most helpful in hacking into Sasuke's phone company, draining his account and disconnecting his emergency phone privileges all at once. This left Sasuke with nowhere to run and no one to turn to but Itachi.

_If Itachi had to corner him, he would. If that's what it took to make Sasuke acknowledge him, he would lock him up, chase him down, confine him, anything. Anything to make him see._

His curiosity peaked. Sasuke knew it was obsolete, knew it couldn't save him, yet clung to it in his sleep? Why? What was the point of holding on to something that did nothing but remind you of how hopeless your situation is? So Itachi bent forward and gently moved Sasuke's fingers aside, picking up the phone and flipping it open.

The sight that greeted him was unexpected, but it sent him into a silent brooding rage that even he didn't understand. The sole reason Sasuke was clutching the useless piece of junk was because of the picture saved as his wallpaper, and it wasn't hard to see why.

Oranges, gold, and pinkish hues painted the sky and reflected on the infinite body of water below it. Standing in front of the large ocean were three teens, one Itachi immediately identified as Sasuke. The other two, a grinning blonde boy and a pink-haired girl, stood beside his brother with cheerful smiles on their faces. The blonde in the middle had his arms wrapped around the others, but that's not what angered Itachi. His little brother, with that cold indifference and haunting beauty, was smiling as well, but with his eyes instead of his lips.

Sasuke didn't seem particularly cheerful or enthused, but he did seem utterly content in the presence of someone _other_ than Itachi. This baffled him. Sasuke had always put up concrete walls with everyone except his brother, and yet here was photo evidence that he'd let other people take down those walls and see the person that once belonged solely to Itachi. It was unnatural; unfathomable;

—_despicable—._

And Itachi knew in an instant that he must cut those two heathens out of the picture for good. He would not kill them, no, that would be too risky, but he would erase all evidence Sasuke possessed of their existence, and eventually he would forget their faces, their voices, and their names. Then they'd be as good as dead to him.

So he shoved the phone into his pocket, pivoting on his left foot to stare mistrustfully at the crumbled old backpack on the floor. He kneeled, unzipped it and did a thorough scan of every item his hands touched. He confiscated the metal ruler, though it was flimsy, Sasuke could still use it against him. When he found the bottle of anxiety medication he paused, inspecting it carefully. It didn't occur to him, despite the situation, that he could ever give Sasuke a reason to consider suicide. It just couldn't happen. Now that they were together, the rest of their lives were to be nothing but yellow-brick-roads, sunshine and rose gardens.

So he put the bottle back, deciding that he'd let Sasuke use up the last of his prescription on his own. He needed to build trust with his little brother, after all, if they were ever going to be in a consensual and stable intimate relationship.

Zipping the bag up again, he stood and turned to look at his still sleeping younger brother. The gentle curves of his face, his dark eyelashes, his soft pale fingers… it was all so serene, and Itachi smiled just thinking about the day when he'd wake up to that face for the first time, and the thousands of times after that. So he carefully placed himself on the futon, sliding close to his brother, letting his hands travel up his side from his hip to his shoulder. Sasuke exhaled quietly in a sigh, and Itachi smiled wider, inhaling the addictive scent that Sasuke produced. He pressed closer, touching the tip of his nose against his brother's, taking a deep breath to feed himself more of that delicious smell. His hands moved back and forth over his brother's ribs, delicately caressing them, as he sniffed at Sasuke's aroma like one of those over-paid girls from an _AXE: men's colon_ commercial.

Sasuke began to stir a bit more as Itachi's hand moved faster and less carefully. With his eyes shut, Itachi failed to notice the way his brother's hand clenched and his eyebrows furrowed as he was pulled from his dreamland and pushed back into a terrifying reality. When he did open his eyes, it was just in time to watch those beautiful black eyes blink to life and stare at him dumbly. Itachi smiled again, pausing his hand below Sasuke's shoulder to stroke that area softly, while he whispered a greeting to his increasingly shocked little brother.

With a yelp of surprise and panic, Sasuke reflexively shoved at the intruder in his bed, successfully pushing Itachi away and, to both of their surprises, off the futon completely. Itachi barely made a sound as he hit the hard floor, unlike Sasuke who was gasping and shaking as he slid against the wall and threw the comforter over his body.

Itachi stood, seemingly unfazed from the harsh rejection and straightened out his clothes. Sasuke was sending him glares of death and contempt but Itachi didn't acknowledge them. Instead, he crawled onto the bed once more and sat there, watching his brother with interest and a look of deep contemplation.

After a little while Sasuke's glares began to falter. It was strange, and painful, to be sitting here in this dark, cold basement staring at the face of his kidnapper, who also happened to be his "dead" older brother. But Itachi's gaze remained stoic and thoughtful as if he were critically analyzing every detail of Sasuke's face.

When Itachi stood up again, Sasuke breathed a little easier. His brother moved over to the small freezer box and picked up a tray of food that had been placed there. He brought it over to Sasuke, setting it on the bed and gently sliding it in his brother's direction.

"I brought you some dinner," he said quietly, sitting down again, a bit farther away this time. "you should eat."

Itachi had to remember to keep his distance when Sasuke was on the defence like this. It was just like bringing home a new cat – you have to give it time to adjust, no matter how much you want to pet and cuddle it. He needed to be patient; let Sasuke get used to him again, build his trust up, before he made a move to touch him or advance their relationship in a sexual manner. He mustn't lose his self control. He _must not._

But Itachi began to think that was impossible when Sasuke dropped the comforter without complaint, revealing his slender yet well-defined upper body, pulling the tray towards him and picking up the chopsticks. He used them to pick up a small piece of tempura shrimp, opening his delectable lips, stroking the deep-fried fish with his teeth and closing his mouth around the entire piece, chewing slow and silently.

Itachi swallowed the sudden lump in his throat, heat rising to his cheeks. Sasuke refused to make eye contact with him, but Itachi was content to just sit and watch his brother feed, finding everything about the younger boy incredibly stimulating. This was dangerous, he knew. The more he was around the boy the more he wanted to strip him, devour him, _bask in him_—yet he couldn't, lest he ruin any chance he had of ever being with Sasuke romantically. He didn't want to keep his brother locked up like an animal; he wanted to share his life with Sasuke. But in order for Sasuke to trust and open up to him, he had to spend time with him, without ravaging him. Itachi began to doubt himself, there was no way he was going to last without doing something regrettable to the object of his obsessions perched before him, picking at his dinner innocently.

Sasuke's scent was already all over the futon, and it invaded Itachi's senses pleasantly and treacherously. His head was fogging and he wasn't even touching Sasuke yet! This wasn't good, there was no possible way Itachi could last another moment without his control shattering. He had to leave right now. Just get up and leave. Hurry, before he completely loses himself in his brother's presence—

But Sasuke had already finished his meal, setting the chopsticks down gracefully, and then his eyes were locked on his older brother's. Itachi was staring at him oddly, as if he was some alien creature that had spawned from the dirt. Not knowing what to say, or if he should say anything, Sasuke blurted the first thing that came to mind, "So… what now?"

Fighting to regain his composure, Itachi snatched the tray up hastily and turned away from his brother. "You should go back to sleep. It's very late."

Itachi began to move towards the door, and then he heard movement behind him. The next thing he knew, a hand was clutching his shirt, halting him, and his brother's voice invaded his ears. "Wait!" he warily looked down at the boy clutching him and instantly regretted it, feeling his control hit the floor and shatter into a million pieces like a glass vase. Sasuke's eyes, wide and pleading, gazed up at him with desperation; his lips parted temptingly, his hips dangerously close to his brother's crotch, "Don't leave yet. Please, don't go,"

The tray slipped from Itachi's hand and its contents crashed noisily to the floor, startling his brother and causing him to jolt backwards, his hand unwrapping from his brother's shirt. Itachi was fully facing him now, advancing on him predatorily, his eyes clouded with lust. "Damn it, Sasuke," he hissed, quietly, his voice deep and angry, though he was not angry – he was frenzied by his own sexual desires. "You just had to keep pushing…"

Sasuke was stepping backwards in time with his brother's treacherous advance, disliking the sudden change in atmosphere, "Pushing what? What do you mean?" the backs of his legs hit the edge of the futon, and Itachi chose that moment to pounce, forcing his younger brother onto the mattress, despite the kicks and shoves of panic and fear Sasuke was dishing out. He straddled his hips and pinned down his legs while his hands grabbed the boy's upper arms and firmly held them against the futon.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sasuke tossed his head from side to side, trying to buck his hips and twist his body. "Get the hell off me!"

Itachi was silent. He kept Sasuke firmly pressed on his back against the mattress. His eyes glowed in the room's darkness, terrorizing his younger brother into near-paralysation. Sasuke refused to give up, however – he continued to kick his legs violently in the air and try to twist his upper body, though Itachi's grip on his arms didn't leave him with much room to move.

"Itachi! Get off!"

Itachi let go of one of Sasuke's arms, and as expected the boy immediately swung it towards his attacker's head aggressively, but Itachi was prepared. He grabbed Sasuke's wrist and pinned it to his chest, then grabbed his other wrist and crossed it over the first, moving to hold both arms restrained against Sasuke's chest with a single hand. Sasuke tried arching his back to gain leverage, but he was unable to move enough to gain any sort of advantage.

"Stop it, Itachi! Let go of me!"

Deafly, Itachi slid down his brother's body to sit comfortably on his thighs, feeling his heart pounding inside his chest. He had his obsession lying directly underneath him; arms immobile, body pinned, face flushed erotically with anger and panic, and Itachi still had a free hand to do and touch whatever he wanted. Selfishly, he considered taking his own aching erection from his pants and relieving himself right there, but the need to touch Sasuke was too intense – he _needed _to feel him; feel his skin and his scent and his presence. The physical need to experience his brother was far greater than the physical need to ease his cock.

Slowly, delicately, Itachi trailed his hand down his brother's chest, his eyes carefully following the movement. Sasuke let out a groan of total displeasure when his brother's fingertips brushed against the skin of his stomach, exposed from the hem of his shirt. Itachi wanted to moan when his fingers touched the perfect, creamy, unblemished skin. He smiled contentedly. His hand pushed the fabric further up his brother's chest, revealing more skin, feeding Itachi's rapid hunger.

Sasuke's arms pinned to his chest prevented the shirt from going any further, disappointing Itachi, who had hoped to see and touch his brother's nipples. Itachi let his hand gently stroke Sasuke's lower stomach, enjoying the way his skin rippled beneath his fingers, tickled at the sensation. Itachi trailed his index finger around his brother's navel slowly, enraptured by the constant tremble in his brother's skin.

Sasuke was watching him; his every movement and action recorded by those beautiful eyes. He was frightened – blatantly, but there was also something else in those eyes. Confusion? Curiosity? Or perhaps he didn't know what to feel and think in this situation. It was understandable.

God, Itachi wanted to kiss him. Lean down, take his mouth—his lips and tongue captured and submissive by his older brother's. But their positions were not appropriate for that. If Itachi leaned forward too much, he would lose his leverage, and Sasuke would gain a rather troublesome upper hand on this situation. This all wasn't turning out quite like Itachi had hoped. He couldn't touch Sasuke's nipples or even kiss him, but there was still something he _could _do with his little brother.

Without hesitation, Itachi's free hand moved down his brother's stomach and attached to the boy's pants, swiftly undoing the button and unzipping them in a matter of seconds. Sasuke tried to buck his hips, but still his resistance was futile. He struggled, desperately pulling his arms and wiggling his hips away from the older man, but Itachi was too strong. He couldn't overpower him.

Shaking with rage and fear, Sasuke slumped against the futon, still watching Itachi with frustrated, narrow eyes. Itachi smiled back, opening the front of his little brother's pants completely and yanking down his underwear to reveal his flaccid cock. A surge of overwhelming emotions vibrated up Itachi's spine, making his hands tremble, as he stared enraptured at the beautiful head and shaft lying limp beneath his hand. Sasuke's face became bright red, watching his older brother stare hungrily at his exposed member. He was afraid to move now—afraid to give his brother any more reason to stare at him.

Releasing a shaky breath, Itachi moved slowly, wrapping his hand around the base of his brother's cock and giving it a long, slow stroke. Sasuke jerked, unable to lie still under his brother's ministrations. A small moan escaped Itachi's lips as he gave another stroke, adoring the way his skin felt against his brother's. He continued to fondle Sasuke's shaft, gaining speed and strength in his movements, ignoring the displeasured groans coming from the boy.

"Itachi, n-no—don't! S-stop!"

An overbearing bliss rose in Itachi's chest when his brother began to harden in his hand. He stroked him harder, occasionally pressing his thumb against the head. Tears gathered at the corners of Sasuke's eyes and his protests turned to moans, unable to form words any longer. His hips began to thrust of their own accord, and Sasuke knew he had lost the battle against not only Itachi, but his own body as well. He was too stubborn to surrender, but what choice did he have? If Itachi kept touching him like that, he was going to lose his mind.

"Itachi… please… p-please, stop…"

His voice was hoarse, no longer so loud and demanding. He couldn't control anything anymore; not the situation, not his body, not even his own voice. He was completely helpless to whatever Itachi had planned for him. Fuck, he _hated _this! He absolutely despised being at someone else's mercy this way. But there was nothing he could do. Not a damn thing.

Itachi's hand movement was fast and aggressive now. His grip was almost painful, but Sasuke's cock seemed to be enjoying it, as it stood erect and damp and twitching in Itachi's hand as it prepared for orgasm. Sasuke's hips still thrust desperately in his brother's direction, his back arched against the mattress, burying his head in the blankets with his face flushed, mouth open and eyes shut. Itachi's own erection was painfully confined inside his pants, but it only served to make him hungrier to witness his brother's ejaculation. He was panting, his face damp with sweat and his ears ringing pleasantly from the sound of Sasuke's eager moans.

"St-stop it, please, N-…_Nii-san!_"

Itachi's hand clenched upon hearing his old nickname spill from his brother's mouth in a moan, and Sasuke cried out in sinful pleasure as his climax hit him hard and he came shamefully in his brother's hand, his cock emptying itself in Itachi's lap. Sasuke's hips jerked uncontrollably as he rode out his orgasm, feeding himself the last of the pleasure, then collapsing in exhaustion when it was all finally over.

Itachi still hadn't moved a muscle since he'd heard his younger brother call him _Nii-san _again after so many years. It had been so long. Hearing that word brought Itachi back to reality—the reality where he was supposed to be building Sasuke's trust by _not ravaging him _and here he was, pants drenched in Sasuke's come and his hand damp for the same reason. Sasuke was lying motionless below him, quietly panting, body devoid of energy and on the verge of passing out.

Hastily, and with great reluctance, Itachi pulled himself off his brother and as far away from the futon as possible. Sasuke opened his eyes just in time to see Itachi rip the door open and slam it behind him, leaving him stunned and alone without a word.

On the other side of the door, Itachi stood with his back pressed against it and his body shaking. His cock still ached feverishly in his pants, he numbly acknowledged, bringing his hand down to relieve it of its confines and stroke it roughly while recalling the look of pleasure and pain on Sasuke's face etched into his memory. In a matter of seconds he came, biting his tongue to silence himself, and slumping against the floor moments later. It took several minutes for him to compose himself enough to stand and lock the door, dragging himself upstairs to his own room for the night.

**

* * *

Author's Note: **I am SO sorry I've been gone so long. A lot of things happened all at once and it's been chaotic, but now I'm back and working on my fanfictions again, have no fear! To those of you who have been patiently waiting for updates, I'm sorry, and thank you very much. I'm going to try and start updating my stories every two weeks, but it might take me a while to get into the habit. I'm not sure how well this will work just yet. Anyways, thanks so much for reading, hope you enjoyed! New chapter will be up soon!


	5. Humiliate You, Trust Me

My Obsession, My Possession

~Chapter Four – Humiliate You, Trust Me~

* * *

Itachi came around less often after that.

When he did come, he would bring food and leave it on top of the small refrigerator. He stopped trying to make conversation with Sasuke – after the incident a few days ago, the boy would hardly even look at him. Itachi had been diligent at first, asking him how he was feeling, if he needed anything, but Sasuke never responded. The only time Sasuke looked at him was when he brought him fresh clothes and towels, or the bathroom was running low on toilet paper or the bed linen needed to be washed.

Itachi was beginning to lose patience with the entire situation. Sasuke was here, in his grasp, he could do anything he wanted with the boy and yet his conscience was immobilizing his actions. His memory of Sasuke's scared and humiliated face from a few days ago haunted him—he never wanted to see that face again. Sasuke had looked so disgusted and ashamed. Itachi's plans were backfiring, and he didn't know what to do. If Sasuke continued to ignore him Itachi feared he would break, and end up ravaging the boy until he became nothing but a lifeless doll.

But Itachi still had hope. He knew the real Sasuke was in there somewhere – he just needed to find it, and bring it out. He needed to somehow provoke Sasuke to release his inner self without damaging him anymore. He needed to do something drastic that would awaken his brother's dormant personality without forcing him to become unstable.

And though he was nervous, and his plan was not only risky but a challenge to fulfill, Itachi believed he knew how to do just that.

* * *

Sakura had been crying all morning. Naruto's palms were aching from clenching his fists, as he sat next to the sobbing girl in the counsellor's office. Their other friends were there as well, Kiba and Hinata, Shikamaru, Lee and Gaara, everyone from their elementary school days – the fourteen of them sat silently around the room; all heads were bowed and Sakura and Ino quietly muffled their sobs.

There was really nothing any of them could say. Sasuke was missing. Kidnapped, maybe even dead. The chances of him being killed were high; whoever kidnapped him was likely the same person who murdered his parents and took his older brother. The young students said nothing to one another, each of them contemplating again and again how such a thing could happen to their friend.

"They never found anything?" Lee asked Naruto quietly from his seat across the room. Naruto looked up at him, his arm around Sakura's waist pulled her a little closer and she gently laid her head on his shoulder and cried a bit more.

"No. They searched the entire area from the school to his house but nothing suspicious was found, and no witnesses have come forth either."

Sakura released a high-pitched, shaky breath and pressed her hands tightly against her face.

"No evidence, no clues, no witnesses," Neji muttered quietly, never taking his eyes off the floor. "It's obvious that whoever did this is intelligent and resourceful enough to have done it flawlessly, which means that if he wanted to, he could have killed Sasuke right then and there and still gotten away with it. Which means that it's very likely Sasuke is still alive."

"But that also means that the police have even less chance of finding him," Shino replied, looking in Naruto's direction. "Why? Because nobody that intelligent would go through all that trouble unless they were absolutely sure they'd never be caught."

Sakura shuddered when a long, loud sob ripped from her throat followed by many shaky gasps. Naruto held her tighter and rubbed soothing circles up and down her back.

"I don't care how smart or resourceful that bastard is," Naruto spat from clenched teeth, "I'm going to find him and beat the shit out of him! And then I'm going to find Sasuke and…" He let his sentence die, feeling Sakura's entire body tense just at the mentioning of finding Sasuke. "…Bring him to Sakura-chan's house and watch her strangle-hug him to death."

Sakura made a sort of gasping sound, which could've been a sob or a laugh—Naruto really couldn't tell.

"Only after _you've _strangle-hugged him to death," Shikamaru said, gently stroking Ino's shoulder. Naruto grinned, his cheeks reddened just a little bit and he scratched the back of his head.

"Yeah, probably."

Everyone seemed to let out a small chuckle, but the moment didn't last. Silence fell over them again, only interrupted by the repetitive sound of Sakura and Ino tearing tissues from the tissue box between them.

"I'm sure they'll find him," Kiba said, "I hear they've got an awesome detective leading the case."

"That Ibiki guy," Naruto replied, looking up. "I met him."

"What's he like?" Neji asked.

Naruto shrugged, looking down into his lap where Sakura had rested her head at the moment. "He's really scary. And the walls in his office are covered in awards and certificates and stuff, and he has all these scars and burns on his face." Naruto looked up at everyone staring at him slightly alarmed. "And he's bald."

Neji sighed, looking away from Naruto unimpressed. "Did he seem particularly competent?"

"He seemed like the kind of guy who doesn't take 'no' for an answer and wouldn't hesitate to shave somebody's skin off with a cheese grater if they tried." Naruto said, "If that answers your question."

"No, not really." Neji responded, annoyed. "But I've heard some impressive stories about him. He's single-handedly solved cases that entire Intelligence Specialists squads couldn't even guess at." Sakura looked up and made eye contact with Neji then. "If anyone can find Sasuke, he can."

"That makes me feel better," Lee said, moving across the room to sit beside Sakura. "You too?" He asked, placing a gentle hand on her side. She wiped her eyes and sat up, sniffling, she set both her hands on each of Naruto's and Lee's.

She nodded.

* * *

Kakashi's head was pounding, as was his heart. Ever since Sasuke had gone missing, he hadn't received a moment's peace—every counsellor and social worker in the entire city had been calling him, family members, friends, the high school's principal—even Naruto and Iruka called constantly to check up on him and ask questions or offer advice.

Kakashi was grateful when Iruka brought food over for him; if it wasn't for the brunette man he probably would have starved to death by now. Kakashi had always been a man who loved peaceful silence – he and Sasuke were the same, like that – but now that things had become so dire and anxiety filled his chest, Kakashi was craving as much social interaction possible. He needed something to fill the void of his empty house and racing mind because, when the lights were off and the night was still, Kakashi was constantly revisited by the persistent and lethal thought that he might never see his son again.

Which is why his heart started pounding every time he was asked to meet with Detective Ibiki. This man's presence brought two things: suffocating dread and miraculous hope. Receiving a call from him was like dousing yourself in gasoline, lighting yourself on fire and then jumping into the Arctic ocean in December. It was exhausting, and Kakashi was beginning to lose his mental strength.

"Please," Kakashi said, as he sat down across from Ibiki in his office. "I really need to hear some good news."

"I have potentially good news," Ibiki said, grabbing a pen from the little cup on his desk. "I have a prime suspect."

Kakashi almost fell out of his chair. "You do? Who? Who is it?"

Ibiki reclined in his chair again, fiddling with the pen in his left hand. "We're all thinking the same thing—Sasuke's kidnapper is mostly likely his parents' killer. But the culprit was never caught, so we have no way of knowing who that is. The killer's identity remains a mystery."

Kakashi lifted an eyebrow. "Until now?"

"I have a hunch," the man said, shifting in his seat. "And it's going to sound crazy. But all of my 'crazy' ideas turn out to be the right ones," and he used his thumb to point behind him at all the award plaques hanging on the wall. "Incidentally."

"Crazy is fine with me," Kakashi replied, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "Anything is."

Ibiki nodded, dropping the pen on his desk. "Assuming the kidnapper is also the killer, what motive would he have to go after a high school kid who is virtually harmless to him? If the killer was someone who wanted Sasuke's family dead out of spite or jealousy, why did he take Itachi alive and not kill him as well? If the killer just happens to be sick and insane, why did he wait almost six full years before targeting Sasuke instead of just waiting for the right moment? Surely it hasn't taken six years for the boy to become vulnerable enough to such an attack."

He picked the pen up again and started tapping it against the desktop. "It doesn't add up. The only way this makes sense is if the perpetrator is someone who was close with the family – someone who had emotional attachment to both sons and has plans for them that don't involve premature death. But you know as well as I do that everyone who had even the slightest involvement with the Uchiha family, including yourself, was investigated after the murders. Except for one person."

Kakashi took a moment to think it all over, his hands clasped together tightly, his eyes surveyed the carpet thoroughly as his mind raced over each detail individually and critically. When at last the name clicked inside his mind, his eyes widened and he slowly raised his head to stare Ibiki straight in the eyes.

"Itachi."

* * *

There was excitement in Itachi's steps as much as there was anxiety and anticipation. He glided down the long corridor of stairs and stopped outside the large chained-up door. He put a hand in his pocket and felt the soft piece of rope wrap around his fingers. His plan would work, it had to. He was confident. But he was also nervous.

He knew Sasuke would make _that _face again. He didn't want to see it, but he had no choice—if he wanted to return Sasuke to his former self, he would have to endure looking at that beautiful, terrified expression.

He quickly unlocked the door and pushed inside, closing and locking it behind him. He glanced around the room, but Sasuke was not there. He shifted his eyes to the bathroom door and saw it closed; he could faintly hear the shower running inside. That would make this much easier.

He was silent and careful as he entered the small bathroom and shut the door behind him. He leaned against the sink, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for his little brother to finish. He glanced up at the towel hanging by the tub and grabbed it, folding it neatly in his hands. He decided to tease Sasuke a little before setting his plan in motion—if they both had to suffer, he might as well have a little fun beforehand.

At last the water shut off and Itachi heard rustling behind the shower curtain. A second later, a thin, pale, beautiful hand reached out from behind it and groped around for the towel that Itachi was now holding. The hand continued to wander aimlessly, then it retreated back into the shower and the curtain was slightly pulled back. Sasuke's beautiful face peaked out from behind it, stared at the vacant space where the towel once hung, then let his eyes wander the rest of the room and finally settle on Itachi, standing across the bathroom and smirking at him, holding the absent towel in his smug hand.

Sasuke's face immediately reddened, and his expression grew angry and spiteful. He pulled the shower curtain close to his body to ensure that Itachi saw the least amount of his naked skin possible.

"What the hell are you doing here? Get out!" he demanded, glaring hatefully at his still smirking brother.

Itachi's expression didn't falter. "As you wish," he said, and held up the towel for Sasuke to see. He turned towards the door, and as he did so he noticed the bundle of clothes lying on the countertop. Without a second thought he grabbed those too, opened the door and said, "If you get tired of standing there cold and wet, just call me and I'll gladly bring this to you." And before Sasuke could reply, he stepped out of the bathroom and shut the door.

Sasuke was pissed.

Not only was he soaking wet, but he was freezing also—he had used up all the hot water in his shower, and Itachi had let most of the warm steam escape when he opened the door. Sasuke knew he was going to regret this, but god damn it, there was only so much coldness his body could handle. Hesitantly, he crept out from behind the shower curtain and stepped out of the bathtub, walking briskly to the door and opening it just a crack. He shivered when a violent gust of cool air hit his body like a freight train, and shyly hid his naked body behind the door.

"Itachi! Give me back my towel and clothes!" he demanded through the door's gap. He heard the springs on the futon squeak as Itachi stood up from it, and the quiet lull of footsteps on the carpet assaulted his ears. Itachi stepped in front of the door, still smirking, holding the towel loosely in one hand. He wasn't holding Sasuke's clothes. Sasuke reached his hand through the gap and held it out expectantly, waiting for Itachi to give him the damn cloth already. Itachi shook his head and opened the towel, holding one end in his right hand and the other in his left, beckoning Sasuke to leave the bathroom and let him drape the towel on his—_naked_—body. Sasuke glared. He wanted Itachi to stop playing this stupid game already and just give him the damn thing, but it seemed that Itachi wasn't going to give up until Sasuke did this his way.

Cheeks flushed, Sasuke ripped the door open and flung himself at his brother as fast as he could, so that Itachi had no time to gawk at his nude body. He tried to pry the towel from his brother's hands, but Itachi held it fast and in return wrapped his arms, and the towel, around Sasuke. Sasuke shivered as warmth enveloped him, subconsciously leaning closer to his brother's body and heat. Delighted, Itachi began to rub the towel over his brother's body; his back and shoulders, his arms, even so bold as to run it over his little brother's beautifully shaped ass and thighs. Sasuke shuddered again, his hands gripped Itachi's shoulders when the older brother knelt in front of him and began to thread the towel between his legs, thoroughly drying them both with slow, gentle precision. Sasuke's face was beat red by the end of the humiliating drying session. Itachi dropped the towel, still knelt on the ground and looked up at his baby brother, whose face was flushed his eyes were screwed shut. Itachi smiled and stood, bringing a hand up to caress Sasuke's hair.

When Sasuke opened his eyes, it was just in time to see his older brother dip down and scoop him up bridal style in his powerful arms. Sasuke twisted his body, hands pushing at Itachi's shoulders and legs kicking every way they could to worm his way out of his brother's unbreakable hold.

"Put me down!"

Itachi either didn't notice the resistance or didn't care, as he carried the squirming boy over to the futon, setting him down gently and leaning his body over the other's to trap it against the squeaky mattress.

It was time to carry out his plan.

He placed his palm flat against Sasuke's collarbone and used it to keep him pinned down. With his free hand, he fished the two pieces of rope from his pocket, dejectedly registering the way Sasuke's face twisted in fear when he saw them. The boy's body flailed, angrily kicking out his legs and using his hands to tear at Itachi's arm and chest. Itachi didn't pay the defiance any mind; instead, he grabbed one of Sasuke's wrists and pushed it against the futon, then placed his knee on the forearm to keep it pinned. With his other knee, Itachi pinned the boy's hip, leaving one side of his body completely immobilized and Itachi with two free hands.

"Itachi—what are you—let go of me!"

Sasuke grimaced when his brother's knees dug into his arm and hip, knowing he would have bruises from it later. He didn't have any time to think about that though; Itachi grabbed his wrist with one hand and his thigh with the other—forcing them together, he held them in one hand, his nails digging in to the soft, spongy flesh of the boy's thigh. Itachi grabbed one of the ropes and with a frightening speed, tied Sasuke's wrist to his thigh in a tight knot.

"Stop it! Itachi—stop—don't!"

Sasuke gasped and tried to break the knot by pulling on his wrist, but all that did was spread his legs and reveal his genitalia even more. He groaned, feeling the circulation in his leg falter when he yanked harder and harder on his bound wrist.

_Not again not again not again…_

Itachi switched to the other side of Sasuke's body, releasing the arm and hip he had pinned earlier only to tie the wrist and thigh together. When the task was completed, Itachi scooted away from his brother and stared hungrily at the wonderful sight.

Sasuke laid on his back, his right wrist tied tightly to his right thigh, and his left wrist tied tightly to his left thigh. When he attempted to pull his wrists free, his legs would spread and give Itachi a very nice view of his little brother's naked manhood. Beautiful. It was such a pleasant sight, Itachi had to fight with every fibre of his being not to simply ravish the boy senseless. No, he had to keep his self control, this time, he _had _to.

Itachi gently cupped the underside of the boy's thighs and pushed them a little further apart so that he could nestle between them. He let them drop around his waist and began to pull his own clothes off, starting with his shirt. When his shirt, pants and boxers were off and disregarded on the floor, Itachi repositioned himself between his brother's legs. Now both brothers were naked and their bodies were touching intimately, the ultimate show of vulnerable exposure.

"What the fuck is _wrong _with you?" Sasuke shouted, scared to move and press even more of his naked body against his brother's. "Why are you doing this? What part of no don't you fucking understand?"

Itachi didn't say anything and let the verbal assault wash over him, opting to rub a gentle hand over his little brother's quivering thigh.

"I don't want this, Itachi, please—" he was forced to shut his eyes and suppress a shudder when that deceitful hand travelled further up his thigh, so close to his crotch. "—please, untie me—Don't do this, anything but this, please…" He gasped and shuddered as that treacherous hand massaged his sensitive skin, never touching his most private areas yet still enticing them. "I don't want this!"

"Sasuke, listen to me." Itachi said, his voice was stern, his hands left the boy's thighs and moved upwards to cup his face, forcing him to stare into his older brother's eyes. Sasuke searched his brother's expression frightfully, surprised to see his brother looking so… unhappy. As if this was something he didn't want to do, either.

"Listen to me, very carefully," he leaned in towards Sasuke's face, his tone was very smooth and undoubted. He looked his little brother straight in the eyes and said, very clearly, "I am not going to hurt you."

And though Sasuke knew he shouldn't—every part of him _screamed _not to—he somehow believed Itachi. Maybe it was the nervous expression, or the hesitant way his hands touched him. Maybe it was because he was still a virgin even though the man who had kidnapped him now had them both stripped, tied him up on a bed. None of it made sense and yet Sasuke still believed him. But the voice of reason at the back of his mind screamed, alarmingly, _you're going to regret this, you gullible little fool._

So Sasuke released a shaky, nervous breath and let his arms relax just a little. He watched every move his brother made with cautious eyes, and not a single thing the older brother did went unnoticed.

Itachi almost felt relieved to see his brother relax. He set to work with his task, trailing his hands _agonizingly slowly _over every part of his brother's naked body. He started at the ankles, rubbing them in gentle circular motions, letting his hands _slowly _trail up to his brother's knees. He continued this pattern over Sasuke's entire body, never being too anxious or uncontrolled. He was just touching him. Gently touching him. Both of them, as naked and vulnerable, the older gently, just touching him. This was how he would gain Sasuke's trust back. He was going to prove it to him—he was not going to hurt him.

Sasuke felt like something was seriously wrong with him. His older brother—the man who had _kidnapped _and _violated _him was now running his hands all over his _naked _body, and even when Itachi touched rather private places, like cupping his ass, he made no verbal objection. Itachi even presented opportunities where Sasuke could have kicked and struck him in dangerous places, but Sasuke remained still and quiet.

Even worse, Sasuke didn't feel nearly as humiliated as he should have. Not until, Itachi trailed a dangerous hand over top Sasuke's flaccid manhood, and it pulsed with sudden contact. Sasuke whimpered, and Itachi's hand stilled, but then moved on to trail up his navel, leaving his brother's cock unattended. Sasuke exhaled, leaning his head back against the pillows, exposing his chest to his brother's hands.

Was this sexual? In a way Sasuke couldn't explain, this almost felt paternal, like a parent gently caressing and soothing their frightened child. Even when Itachi touched him in an intimate place, Sasuke's fear was not aroused. And even worse, he was starting to hate it less, feel less humiliated. The more Itachi touched him the better his mind wrapped around the whole situation.

And then Itachi pressed their chests together, and Sasuke felt the man's rock hard cock press against his genitals.

* * *

Itachi was losing his mind.

For the past three days, he had repeated the same actions with Sasuke, and each time he stumbled away from it with a cock hard as diamond and an unbearable desire to fuck his little brother halfway to death.

After the first time, he didn't need to tie his brother up anymore, and all it took was some gentle coaxing to get Sasuke to lie naked with him and let his body be caressed. To Itachi's extreme delight, the last time they had partaken, Sasuke even touched him back—hesitantly and shyly of course. Naturally, the way his brother became aroused didn't go unnoticed by Itachi, but it only infuriated him even more, knowing that if he dared to indulge himself in his desires, all of his hard work would be flushed down the drain.

He was beginning to feel like things would never go the way he wanted, but he knew that wasn't the case; he was just (sexually) frustrated that he had been with Sasuke for over an entire week and he hadn't fucked him yet.

And even worse, after every session he had with Sasuke, the boy would gently touch his arms or shoulders and ask him to let him out of the room. It was becoming increasingly more difficult for Itachi to deny his brother's request. He wanted Sasuke to be happy – that was obvious. But even more so, he wanted Sasuke to stay with him, and he hadn't yet gained the boy's affection enough to let him out without fear that he would run away.

It's not that he didn't trust Sasuke, it was just that the boy still had very strong emotional connections to _other _people, and Itachi hadn't gotten around to erasing those strong connections just yet. He wouldn't be able to accomplish that until Sasuke was comfortable enough to consent to engaging with him in explicit sexual activities, since Itachi planned on literally screwing the memories right out of his brother's head.

Itachi felt like today might be the day, however. He had a plan. A very simple, ingenious, and sexy plan. He had, in his spare time, purchased a rather fancy and expensive massage oil from one of those "sophisticated" sex shops that Madara himself recommended. He planned on using this oil during today's naked session with Sasuke, in hopes that it would entice and awaken the young male's inner sexual desires.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Itachi pocketed the fancy bottle of lotion and proceeded to hastily unlock the door. He stepped inside, and the first thing he noticed was that the bathroom light was on and the door was closed. The second thing, however, was that the bookshelf in the corner was completely taken apart. The books were heaped into a large pile on the floor and one of the shelves was missing from the case. His face contorted confusedly, and his hand touched the edge of the door behind him, prepared to shut it. However he never got the chance, for in that moment, a heavy weight slammed into the back of his head and sent him crashing to the floor with an agonized howl of pain. He turned just in time to see Sasuke standing above him, eyes wide with anxiety, chest heaving with adrenaline, and the large two-by-four shelf from the bookcase dropped from his shaky hands and collided noisily with the floor. Sasuke didn't wait even a second to see if Itachi was all right – the minute his body hit the floor, he dropped the piece of wood and ran out the door and up the staircase.

Itachi couldn't believe what just happened. He crawled to grab on to Sasuke's fleeting figure, but his head throbbed and his eyes blurred and his hands stopped listening to him. He attempted to stand but fell down again, clutching his throbbing head with one hand while the other attempted to pull him up.

He was so angry. Angry at himself for not being smarter, angry at Sasuke for being so defiant, and most of all, angry at his godforsaken conscience that told him to wait until Sasuke was ready before having sex with him. Now he may never get the chance.

No. Itachi would not let it end like this, not after all those years of hard work and waiting and self-control. He would catch Sasuke, he would drag him back, tie him down and force his dominance on the boy until he never even dared to defy Itachi again. He would not walk away from this empty-handed. A lifeless doll Sasuke was better than no Sasuke at all.

So Itachi forced himself to his feet and ran up the flight of stairs behind his brother.

**

* * *

Author's Note: **Yes, I still plan on (someday) updating every two weeks, when the Fates allow. Luckily for you, dear reader, the next chapter is already well underway. Do you think Itachi is really going to rape his little brother? You'll just have to wait and see! :) Thank you for reading!


	6. Headlights

My Obsession, My Possession

~Chapter Five – Headlights~

* * *

He ran, faster than he had ever run in his life, even compared to the day he was chased through the alleyway after school.

He didn't know where he was going. Up the stairs, through the door. A hallway. Three doors to choose from, he chose the first on the left. More running, another hallway, another door on the left. It was a room filled with boxes, an old sofa and a bar stool. There was a window, but he didn't stop to look through it, though he probably should have.

He took the door next to it, but it was just another storage room. Finally, the door on the right opened up to a room that looked like a lounge, but there was no one inside. Sasuke entered, gasping for breath, and ran to the window. He was correct—the room he had been staying in was the basement, and this, thankfully, was the first floor. He peered out the window at what looked like a garden; nothing but grass, flowers and trees. Picturesque.

Adrenaline surged through his veins as he searched the room for something to break the glass with. There was nothing he could easily lift, so he grabbed a beautiful, delicate looking vase and smashed it against the window. As to be expected, the vase shattered, and the window survived with only a small crack. Frustrated, Sasuke banged his fist against it, hitting a bit harder than he meant to. The crack grew, but the glass did not break.

He glanced around the room again, until finally his eyes found their way to the curtain rod above the window. It was wooden, and not very fancy like everything else in the room. Not very effective, but his best option at this point. He quickly snatched it and ripped the flimsy white curtains off, then drove it through the glass like a sword. The crack erupted around the wooden pole, leaving a jagged hole as big as a basketball. Not big enough. Swinging the rod like a bat, Sasuke struck the glass and it shattered with a deafening crash. For a severe moment, Sasuke regretted it as shards of glass sprayed everywhere, some pieces imbedding themselves in his hands, arms and face. It stung, but the adrenaline roaring in his body subdued the pain. He had no time to worry about it—he would clean himself up once he was outside and a safe distance from this damned place.

"Hey—what the hell do you think you're doing?"

A voice, deep and accusatory pulled him away from his moment of triumph. He dropped the rod, it clattered noisily against the polished marble floor. Sasuke spun around, coming face to face with a man who looked just as irritated as he did amused. Sasuke was beside himself, it was as though his brain completely shut off. He didn't even consider the possibility that there would be _other people _in this building. And now he was confused. There were other people, wasn't that a good thing? Maybe they had no idea Itachi was keeping him here, maybe they would help him. But this man's eyes—well, _eye_, the other was covered by a lock of golden hair—did not seem friendly. If anything, Sasuke immediately felt as though this man immensely despised him. He seemed malevolent, as if he would go out of his way to ensure that Sasuke suffered terribly.

"Itachi's little brother?" the man asked as he stepped closer, surveying the damage from the broken window, the shattered vase, the torn curtains and the splintered curtain rod. "You look just like him."

At the mention of his brother's name, Sasuke felt his blood run cold, the adrenaline slipped away. Itachi. Before this week, no one had said that name in front of him for almost five years. It brought back his old feelings of grief and longing, but they were instantaneously swept aside by new feelings of fear and resentment. Itachi. That man really _was_ Itachi, he could no longer deny it. The man who had kidnapped, imprisoned and humiliated him was definitely his long-lost older brother.

Suddenly, Sasuke's knees felt weak. Every muscle in his legs went slack, as if something had surged through his body and stolen all his energy. He felt so very tired, like he wanted to give up and slouch against the nearest wall. But he couldn't, not when his escape was so close, not when he was only a second away from being free, from going home.

The man stood a few feet in front of him and stared. He made no move to invade Sasuke's space or try to drag him back to the dungeon. Sasuke decided then and there, if he came any closer, he would attack. He would not be taken again without a fight.

But the man did not seem to want to get involved in his affairs. He simply watched, still amused, as Sasuke's mentality bounced around on the emotional spectrum. Sasuke half-expected him to pull up a chair and grab a bowl of popcorn; he seemed to want nothing more than to be a spectator in Sasuke's attempt to escape. Finally, he spoke,

"You'll cut yourself up pretty badly trying to climb through that window, y'know."

"That doesn't matter." It surprised him to hear his own voice; it sounded so much different from the quiet voice of his mind that whispered his thoughts.

"Why don't you use the _door _?" the man asked, as if he was answering the stupidest and most obvious question he'd ever been asked.

Sasuke felt frustrated and emotionally drained as he replied, "I don't know where it is, and I don't have the time to go looking for it."

And then, the man smirked, and raised his right arm calmly to point to the door beside him.

"Go in there. Take the door on your left and go down the hallway. The door at the end leads to the foyer… and the front door."

Sasuke studied the man sceptically. Why should he believe him? He was Itachi's friend—probably—and he didn't seem to particularly care about his predicament. So warily, the boy asked, "Why are you helping me?"

And that question actually brought some emotion to the blonde man's face; suppressed rage, resentment and hostility. His one visible blue eye was swollen with unmitigated fury. "Do you want the truth?" and he crossed his arms and turned his head away, his voice dripping with bitterness. "I _hate _your brother."

And that was convincing enough for Sasuke. Whoever this man was, whoever he was _to_ _Itachi_, the expression on his face and the timbre of his voice in that one moment completely wiped away any doubts he had that this man would _ever _help Itachi keep him prisoner, even if he despised Sasuke just for being _related _to Itachi.

So he said nothing more and followed the man's direction into the next room. It seemed to be a meeting room of some kind—there was a large rectangular table in the center, and the only other furniture in the room were about a dozen or so chairs. There was a door directly across from him, and as he turned to the left wall he was met by another dilemma—there were two left doors.

He opened the first one which led to a hallway. At the end of the hallway was, in fact, another door. Just to be sure, he checked the other door, and was bemused to discover it led to the exact same thing. God damn it.

He went back into the previous room, but the angry blonde man was already gone. Fuck, he was so screwed.

Relying on nothing but luck, Sasuke chose the one on the left of either of them, hoping that is what the man meant by "the door on your left". He walked briskly down the hallway, no longer having the energy to run, but before he could reach it the door opened, and there stood Itachi with a white bandage wrapped around his forehead.

Sasuke felt like his heart had stopped, but in reality it had begun beating so fast it was hammering against his ribs. Itachi looked just as surprised, and then his expression became unreadable, if not a little bit angry and disappointed.

Before either of them could say anything, the door behind Sasuke opened as well, and two men entered the hallway. The first, dressed in a rich designer suit with a wrinkled face and black, soon-to-be-gray hair, stopped immediately when he saw the two brothers. The man behind him, who was significantly taller and more muscular, grinned like a maniac at the scene, revealing a hideous mouth of sharpened teeth.

Itachi's face paled as he locked eyes with the shorter, older man, and that made Sasuke extremely nervous. He had never seen his brother look… _anxious_, much less _intimidated _by another human being.

It was unfamiliar and it made his skin crawl.

"Itachi." The man's voice was much deeper than Sasuke thought it would be, "Would you care to explain yourself?"

Sasuke looked back at his brother, who suddenly appeared to be very ill. His fists were clenching, and while Sasuke could not take his eyes away from the completely bizarre sight, he felt the other man's eyes burning into the back of his head.

"Madara," his voice was not as clear, nor as smooth. "It was an accident. It won't happen aga—"

"I've told you before, Itachi." the man's voice was deadly calm, it made both the brothers shiver. "I don't mind you keeping your brother here as long as he _does not cause trouble_. It's only been a few days, and yet he has already destroyed several pieces of my property." Sasuke could tell by the tone in the man's voice, he did not give a fuck about the broken furniture. It wasn't the damaged property he cared about at all—no, his problem was with Sasuke.

"This is your last warning, Itachi," and for a moment he locked eyes with Sasuke, and the boy immediately understood why his brother had turned so pale. The man's eyes were terrifying.

"If he causes anymore trouble, he dies."

* * *

Naruto hated himself more than he would ever admit.

He hated himself when Sasuke went missing, though he knew there was no way he could have prevented it. He hated himself for not telling Sasuke every single day that he was like a brother to him; that he would do anything to keep him safe and he loved him. He had never said it, not once, and now Sasuke was gone.

He hated himself when Sakura become mad with grief and refused to leave her room, and he could do nothing to comfort her. Her mother begged him to do _anything_, but he was no good to Sakura as long as his heart was also filled with grief.

And finally, he hated himself for his owns thoughts, his thoughts of whether or not he and Sakura were dating now.

Sasuke was kidnapped and he was thinking about his romance with Sakura. He hated himself.

It wasn't his fault really—when he had gone to see her, she had clung to him and begged him to make her feel better, and then kissed him. What was he supposed to do? He had loved Sakura since elementary school, and now here she was, clinging to him and begging him and kissing him. He was only human, after all. So he kissed back, and one thing led to another, and before he knew it they were lying naked, clinging to each other, and Sakura cried until she passed out from exhaustion and he was left there in silence to question their situation and hate himself.

He shouldn't even be here, he told himself. He should be running through the city streets, knocking on every single door until he found Sasuke, never resting or stopping until he had his friend back. Instead he was sleeping with their best friend and wallowing in his self pity like a pathetic child.

He really hated himself.

What if Sasuke was dead? What if, the moment he entered Sakura, Sasuke had been shot right in the head and died.

Suddenly he couldn't lie there anymore. He jumped from the bed and threw his clothes on—Sakura woke up, but she didn't even bother to look at him, she just curled into a ball and faced away—and then he was running from her bedroom, down the stairs and out the front door, crying like a snivelling little brat all the way home.

* * *

Sasuke wondered over and over again why he didn't run for it the moment he was alone with Itachi.

His brother was probably faster, he knew, but didn't he owe it to himself to try? Instead he walked silently behind his brother all the way back to the basement. Itachi's aura had changed, and he didn't like it. He couldn't tell if he was angry or depressed, but either way, he was silent and wouldn't look at Sasuke and that made him extremely uncomfortable.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Sasuke saw the door for the first time.

Chains. Chains criss-crossing over it in every direction, overlapping, intertwining. Chains bolted to the wall and fastened together with unbreakable metal clamps. Chains coiling around each other and pinning the door shut like a straightjacket.

Sasuke couldn't breathe. The anxiety of knowing exactly where he had been all this time swelled inside him; he truly was a prisoner, that door like something from a horror movie; the dungeon where a serial killer keeps his virgin victims locked up and waiting to be eviscerated.

Itachi began unfastening them, and Sasuke couldn't move. He couldn't even look away. His blood was racing rapidly through his veins, pounding in his ears, blurring his sight. His limbs felt heavy and dead, like liquid cement clinging to his fractured bones. He wanted to collapse on the floor and smash his face repeatedly into the carpeted concrete, leaving a gaping hole in his forehead and pieces of his mind literally shattered on the ground.

Itachi finished undoing all the locks and opened the door, looking back at his brother expectantly. Waiting for him to enter, the way the naïve virgin climbs into the back of the serial killer's truck, thinking he's really going to give her a lift home. Sasuke couldn't do it. He was scared. He was too scared to move even the tiniest muscle; even his brain began shutting down. Fight. Flight. _Freeze._

Frozen, that was it; the way a deer freezes when you're driving towards it, and you honk your horn but the damn thing won't budge because it's too stupid and scared to realize that it's about to fucking die, and you're going too fast to hit the brakes so you speed up, because that's what you're supposed to do, so the damn thing won't crash through your windshield and kill your whole fucking family.

Itachi was about to crash into him and he couldn't move, so logically Itachi was going to speed up and gun him down, so that only one man died tonight.

Itachi was still looking at him expectantly. Keep staring, asshole. He was not going to enter. He was not going to run head-first into an oncoming vehicle. He would rather stand here and wait for impact. Any second now. Any second…

His brother grew impatient and grabbed his wrist, heaving his upper body to fling Sasuke ungracefully into the room. With a groan, the younger fell to his knees, nearly smacking his face into the floor and he knelt there, still too troubled to get up; too frenzied to realize when his brother locked the door and knelt behind him.

The cold hand on his bare back sent a jolt of numbness through his body. Itachi was shameless, sticking his hand beneath his shirt like that with no warning. But then again, this was nothing compared to everything else his brother had done. This wasn't even close.

Itachi ran his hand further up his brother's back, feeling the way the skin trembled and shivered to his touch, and wishing his brother would turn around and look at him. He could handle Sasuke being angry with him, even hating him, but he could not bear it if Sasuke wouldn't even _acknowledge _he was there, like he didn't exist. That was the worst. That was worse than anything else he could do.

Itachi removed his hand and stood, staring down at his brother with unreadable eyes. He lifted his shirt above his head and pulled it off, letting it fall to the floor. Sasuke still didn't look at him. He unfastened his belt, unzipped his pants and threw them down to his ankles where he stepped out of them, gently kicking them out of the way. He did the same with his boxers.

When he was completely naked, he got back down on his knees behind his brother. It was cold in here, he thought, but he would fix that soon.

Sasuke must look at him. He must see his brother's eyes, he didn't care what emotions whirled inside them.

All the waiting and the suffering. He just wanted Sasuke to look at him. He had to do something to get his attention.

He would accept hate. Hate was not the furthest thing from love, contrary to what people believed.

The opposite of love is indifference.

He slipped both of his hands inside his brother's shirt, running them up along his back to his shoulders. He kneaded the muscles gently, coaxing his brother to loosen up a little bit, but Sasuke remained frozen.

He brought his hands back down and grabbed the hem of the shirt, lifting it and pulling it over the boy's head. Sasuke seemed confused, but he still didn't look back, letting the shirt stay tangled up in his arms, only halfway off.

Itachi studied the sight of his brother's perfect back, every curve and the unmarred white skin, smooth and untouched. He wanted to touch it, but he wasn't done yet. He reached around to his brother's front, pulled the shirt off of his arms, like undressing a child. Sasuke was completely malleable at this point. He just did not care.

Leaving the shirt where it was on the floor, Itachi lowered his hand to the button on Sasuke's jeans, ready to open it. But Sasuke's own hand shot up quickly, grabbed his wrist, and Sasuke trembled once, tightening his grip. Itachi inclined his head in an attempt to meet his brother's eyes, but Sasuke looked away. He did not want to look.

His hand released the jeans' button and attempted to move away, so Sasuke let it go. The boy slumped back into his porcelain doll figure, much to Itachi's chagrin. He was hoping Sasuke would make a fuss. Oh well, he would just have to push him a bit further, right?

His left hand came around and snatched Sasuke's left wrist in a tight grip. Reflexively, Sasuke used his right hand to try and pull his other free, and Itachi took advantage of the opportunity and took hold of both the boy's wrists in one hand. Sasuke pulled and struggled to get free, but the more he pulled away from Itachi's hand, the closer he came to Itachi's _naked _body, and after brushing his back against his brother's nude chest for the third time, he surrendered to the fact that he was caught, and ceased to struggle for freedom.

Itachi moved in close, pressing his chest to his brother's back. He kissed the side of his brother's face tenderly, letting the feel of his lips linger, sensing the way it made Sasuke internally convulse. He began to litter kisses along the boy's neck and across his shoulder, his free hand trailing down the trembling torso to caress the skin above the pants' hem. Sasuke shifted, trying to wriggle his way out of his brother's grasp, away from the sickening touch, but he was trapped in his brother's hands. The muscles in his thighs twitched, his urge to run suppressed, his spine hardening like a statue. He wanted to scream so loud that the sound would be white and silent. He clenched his teeth.

His brother wasted no time; he unfastened the front of his pants and spread the fabric open, the cool air washed over the boy's crotch like ointment on a burn; sudden and shocking and unpleasantly pleasant. He shut his eyes, lowering his head to hide his ashamed face, as his elder brother spread the fabric wider to slip it easily down the boy's hips.

He lifted Sasuke up just a bit by his wrists so that he could effectively remove the pants and boxers beneath. When he had successfully pulled all clothing away from his treasure, he released his brother's wrists and pulled him back onto his lap. Sasuke fought to hold in his groans of discomfort, but a shocked gasp escaped from him when his lower back came into brute contact with his brother's cock, erect and ready for the moment Sasuke had been dreading.

Itachi should have been questioning his actions, but there was no time to think. The moment he felt his cock press against his brother's perfect naked skin, the reason and rationality slipped away from him all at once. He had pictured this moment in his head more times than he could count; his brother, obstinate, angry and confused, would scream obscenities as his older brother pinned him to the bed. He would struggle, but Itachi's weight would leave him immobile, and after a long while of futile resistance, he would surrender and go lifeless. He would realize that _he had lost, _and then Itachi would be free to commit his heinous sin. Whatever happened next was always censored in Itachi's mind. He could connect the dots; he knew what events took place, but the image of it was nonexistent; just a giant black cloud covering his inner sight.

When that part was over, his brother was always panting and naked, skin flushed several brilliant different shades. He would have that deliciously hollow look in his eyes, too tired from the act to say a thing, but beneath that exhausted visage, there would be a ghost of a smile—a tiny curl at the corner of his lips that reassured his brother that everything would be okay.

A voice in the back of Itachi's mind told him that that was completely unrealistic, that people did not smile after being raped unless they were completely deranged. He always ignored that voice. The very idea that this would end any differently was unconceivable to Itachi—in his mind, there was no way this could have a negative outcome. After all, didn't he know Sasuke better than anyone? And Sasuke loved him too, more than anybody else in the world. Things would go the way he wanted. There would be no consequences. It was perfect. _Sasuke _was perfect.

It was in this moment of consoling, that Itachi asked himself why he was doing this. Was it lust? Yes, that was partially it. Physically, he wanted Sasuke. Was it love? No, he did love Sasuke, but he would never hurt him like this in the name of love. Was it power? Itachi wondered that himself; was he just as bad as other rapists, who aren't really looking for sexual gratification, they just want to dominate something, make someone else be the victim. No, that wasn't it, either. Itachi knew he had more power than Sasuke. He didn't need to violate him to prove it.

Did he think that committing a sexual act would make Sasuke fall in love with him?

No. Itachi wasn't an idiot, he knew that that was ridiculous. It would never work. People don't fall in love with their rapists.

Itachi knew why. He didn't need to question himself like this.

Sasuke would never love him back, not in the same way. The chance of Sasuke falling in love with his estranged older brother—_especially after all this_—was impossible. Itachi believed this with every fibre of his being; there was nothing he could ever do that would make Sasuke love him back. They were brothers. He couldn't change that.

Maybe he couldn't make Sasuke love him, but he _could _make Sasuke _need_ him. Sasuke had always depended on other people—his foster-father, his friends—and Itachi had destroyed that already, by taking him away from those people, forever. But there was one person Sasuke could still depend on—himself. Sasuke was independent and strong, and no matter how bad things got, he always found a way to pick himself back up. He was self-reliant, and while Itachi was proud of him for that, he had to destroy it. Sasuke couldn't be allowed to rely on anyone except Itachi. Not even himself.

There was no better way to take away someone's independence than by making them hate themselves. And there was no better way to make someone hate themselves than by making them uncomfortable inside their own body.

After this, Itachi knew Sasuke would never be right again. He wouldn't find any solace within himself; no comfort or inner peace. He would have nowhere to go where he could banish the terrible memories. He would hate himself. He would hate being inside his own body, the feel of his own skin would torment him. He would do anything to get away from the agony, and Itachi would be there for him; his only refuge, his only means of escape. And after a long time of teaching his little brother that the only person he could trust and depend on was Itachi, he'd be able to grant him some of his freedom back, and they would escape from Madara and find a place where they could live and die, in twisted happiness.

If Sasuke had nowhere else to turn, he would turn to his brother, and Itachi would become his only lifeline. It wasn't love, but it was better than nothing. Sasuke needing him was better than Sasuke not caring for him at all.

It was better than being just a brother.

His conscience absolved, Itachi lifted his brother and carried him over to the futon. Sasuke made no move to escape when he was dropped onto his back; he merely turned his head to hide his face from his brother's eyes. Itachi walked over to where he had left his pants in a messy heap, and fished through the pockets until he found the bottle of fancy oil he'd had earlier. Approaching the bed again, he crawled over his brother's motionless body, trying to make eye contact, but Sasuke wouldn't have it.

Itachi uncapped the bottle and poured its contents onto his hands, accidently dripping onto Sasuke's stomach. The boy flinched when the cold, slimy substance ran down his flat stomach and over his skin; thin rivulets washed down his sides, soaking into the sheets and cooling his back. Sasuke steeled his spine and clenched his fists when his older brother gently spread his legs, kneeling between them to give himself a close-up view of his brother's genitals.

Every muscle in Sasuke's body hardened, but he kept his face pressed as close to the mattress as he could, wishing he could just suffocate himself and get it over with. He didn't want to see his brother's face. He was scared of the look in his eyes. But Sasuke knew that Itachi wasn't looking at his face anymore. _Not anymore…_

He gritted his teeth together when a lubricated finger began prodding at his entrance. It slipped inside, and he failed to hold back his sounds of discomfort and Itachi didn't seem to notice. He continued his ministrations unabated, and Sasuke began breathing heavier and heavier, unable to regulate his flow of oxygen. The anxiety was choking him.

He groaned loudly when his brother added another finger. Sasuke wanted to look, but he didn't, he refused. He was frightened. He had no idea what Itachi was doing, but it was starting to hurt more. It felt like the lubrication was coming off, and just as he finished that thought, Itachi removed his fingers and replaced them with the ones on his other hand. The fresh lubrication made it hurt less, but the intrusion was still painful and unwelcomed.

Itachi continued his thrusting and twisting and prodding, and Sasuke couldn't stand it anymore. He wrapped his arms around himself, hating the feel of his damp skin and bloody palms. He held himself tighter, feeling nauseas, telling himself he would not throw up, he would not start sobbing, he would not beg Itachi to stop.

Itachi removed his now dry fingers, casting a wayward glance at the red, swollen hole that still looked too tight for him to fit inside. He would not apologize, but there was remorse in his bloodstream as he poured a generous amount of oil on his erection and pressed the head against his brother's opening. Sasuke's whole body tensed again, his fingers dug into his skin and drew blood as he hugged himself tighter, his lips pursed together, defiantly holding back his screams.

Itachi didn't have the self-control to go slow. It took everything he had to not ram relentlessly inside that empty doll, and even Sasuke lost some of his resolve and began making shrill sounds of pain that rapidly changed into sobs and coughs as he struggled to breathe. He was holding himself so tightly that there were red handprints on his arms and his skin was pale from the shoulders up because the flow of blood was constricted. Normally, Itachi would have noticed this. _Normally, _Itachi would have seen that it was time to stop; he didn't need to take this any farther.

But Itachi didn't notice. Itachi was inside his brother and all his blood was in his cock, leaving his brain idle and useless. He didn't notice the changes in his brother's body, or the moment of his spirit breaking quickly approaching. All Itachi noticed was the tight, wet feeling of those muscles wrapped around his erection and the way it sucked him in with every thrust and it was everything he had ever imagined, every twisted fantasy and none of them had been exaggerated in the slightest. He was deaf and blind to everything except the physical sensations enveloping his cock. He thrust and pounded with more speed and strength every time, clutching his brother's hips hard enough to draw blood. He had no thoughts in his head; no feeling in his mind or body except the delight in his groin. When he felt his orgasm approaching, he wanted to stop to savour the pleasure, but he couldn't. Instead he sped up, his body wanting to achiever that bliss, and in a few more thrusts he climaxed harder than he ever had in his entire life, feeling like every ounce of liquid was drained from his body and pumped inside his little brother, and in that one perfect second there was no agony, no remorse, no self-hating or need for affection, just pleasure and total satisfaction.

He didn't want to stop thrusting even after it was over, but the high was coming down, and reality was taking place again. The moment he came off cloud nine he hit the ground, and his body became unbearably exhausted and he collapsed onto his frozen little brother with little regard to the fact that he was probably crushing him.

Sasuke had his eyes closed and he was facing away from his brother, his face was damp with sweat and tears, and the muscles in his body had been tensed up so long that they forced themselves to loosen, and now it felt like he had no muscles at all; just damp skin and bones and traces of blood. He released his hold on himself, feeling the blood drying under his fingernails and wondering if it was as black as it felt. His arms hurt and he wished he could let them drop beside him, but Itachi was lying on top of him. He was probably passed out, but at least his weight was putting his arms to sleep and numbing the ache in his muscles.

Then Itachi stirred and began to lift himself off his brother's body, and Sasuke took advantage of the moment to rest his arms at his sides. Blood flowed back into them, and it was painful, in a relieving way. Itachi placed his forearms next to his brother's head, so that he could lean over him without crushing him, and gently he stroked his face, trying to coax him into looking at him. Sasuke didn't resist or react; he let his brother manipulate his body any way he wished. Itachi rubbed his thumb beneath Sasuke's eye to wipe away not-yet-dried tears, placing a chaste kiss on his lips while he tucked away some loose strands of hair out of his brother's face. Sasuke opened his eyes, revealing the hollow black pits Itachi had expected, a perfect replica of his imagination. But Sasuke was unseeing; his gaze aimed right past Itachi, landing in a corner of the room at the blank wall that matched his blank expression.

"Look at me, Sasuke," Itachi whispered, waiting silently for his brother to register his words and obey. Slowly, Sasuke turned his face towards his brother and lifted his eyes, staring directly at him with no more emotion than he had shown the wall.

Itachi let a small smile grace his lips, pretending nothing was wrong, even though his brother's utterly vacant appearance unnerved him a bit. He let his eyes wander every inch of that gorgeous face, but they were always drawn back to the black, empty eyes, the emotionless stare that cut through him like a knife to wet paper.

He leaned in and placed another kiss on his brother's mouth, and still Sasuke did nothing, he didn't even tense his muscles or turn his head away. Itachi pulled back, making sure to lock his eyes sternly with his brother's and said, in his smoothest and most confident voice, "I love you, Sasuke."

There was a flicker of emotion in Sasuke's eyes that lasted half a second before it was gone, and then his eyes became vacant again and he still didn't bother to move any part of his body even though he was uncomfortable. He didn't break eye-contact with his brother even as he whispered his reply, in a voice that was even more hollow than the rest of him.

"No you don't."

Itachi's expression didn't change, as if he had expected that answer. He gave his brother one last look before he pulled away and stood up, gathering his clothes from the floor. He used his shirt to wipe himself relatively clean, then dressed himself and left to take a shower.

Sasuke didn't move until he heard all the locks on the door put back into place, and then when the sound of his brother's footsteps up the stairs began to fade he curled up on his side and closed his eyes, wishing he could pass out but knowing that he wouldn't sleep again for a long time.

* * *

**Author's Note: **You fangirls are fucking scary.


	7. Reflected in The Ice of His Dreams

My Obsession, My Possession

~Chapter Six – Reflected in The Ice of His Dreams~

* * *

Kakashi found that his body did not handle stress well. It had been three weeks since Sasuke went missing. _Three weeks. _And every time he went back to Detective Morino the man assured him that he had a lead, soon he would show the results. But Kakashi was beginning to lose faith as each day passed and he still seemed so far away from ever seeing Sasuke again.

His nights had become long and restless; his appetite had completely disappeared. Dark circles framed his eyes and his ribs became more and more prominent and it felt as though his entire existence was just slowly fading out.

He told himself that he had to get out of this funk. He had to be strong, he had to keep up the fight, for Sasuke. But another side of him weighed him down, telling him that Sasuke was dead or worse and there was just no point anymore.

Pitifully, Kakashi found himself relying more and more on the comfort of Iruka these days. It helped somehow. That's all he cared about.

Iruka was doing a great job holding up both a broken Kakashi and a devastated Naruto as well. The thought of the blonde boy made Kakashi grimace. Naruto seemed to be in even worse shape than Kakashi; his eyes were sunken in from not eating, his naturally tan face was sickly pale, and about a week or so ago he completely stopped going to school, making some speech about not wanting Sasuke to be the only one behind on his studies "when he came back."

Iruka had, as to be expected, completely disagreed with the boy's logic. But Naruto was completely adamant and nothing Iruka said or did could change his mind. Sakura came by a couple times to drop off the work he missed (even though he refused to do it) and said she would make a habit out of it until Naruto came to his senses, much to Iruka's chagrin. Oddly enough, whenever she stopped by Naruto would barricade himself inside his bedroom and refuse to even say hello. Iruka, being the all-knowing mother hen that he is, began to suspect that Naruto skipping school had less to do about Sasuke and more about some fight he had with Sakura.

Kakashi had paid witness to all this because a little over a week ago, Iruka had practically forced him to move into their house. Kakashi had objected of course, but he didn't have very much strength to argue with a stubbornly concerned Iruka, so he ended up sleeping in their guest bedroom the last few days. When he could be bothered he would go to work, but his boss had practically given him free time off due to the situation. Kakashi was grateful. When he wasn't at work, he would stop by his house to check his phone messages and get the mail, (and don't tell anyone, but whenever he walked down the hallway that led to the den, he would always stop to open Sasuke's door and stare into his empty bedroom _that smelled exactly like him_, eventually succumbing to grief and allowing himself a few moments to wallow as he sat on his lost son's bed with a wet face.)

It was on this particular day, as he sat on Sasuke's neatly made bed, fighting back tears with a phone pressed to his ear that he received a message from Detective Morino. _Phone me as soon as you get this, _the message said, _Good news._

Needless to say, Kakashi's spirits seemed to soar as he speedily dialled the number he'd already memorized. After a brief chat, he hung up and made a beeline for the front door, almost forgetting to lock it in his emotional frenzy as he literally sprinted to the car and began pulling out of the driveway with his door still open and his seatbelt undone.

Driving like a madman the way he was, it was a miracle that Kakashi made it to the police station in one piece. Ibiki didn't fail to notice the subtle instability of the man's emotional state and politely offered him some water. Kakashi accepted gratefully.

"So?" Kakashi asked breathlessly, before he even sat down, "What's the news?"

"Before that," Ibiki replied, lacing his fingers together on the desktop, "What do you know of the secret investigation Uchiha Fugaku was leading prior to his death?"

Taken aback, Kakashi stuttered a moment before replying, "He was the superintendent general; he investigated a lot of things. I don't know of any particular one… especially if it was kept secret."

Ibiki nodded, his expression unchanged. "That's what I expected to hear. Three months before the murder, Fugaku began investigating a mysterious criminal organization that makes the Yakuza seem like a bunch of schoolgirls. He didn't tell anyone about it—except for his second-in-command at the time; a smart move on his part. I'll get right to the point. I suspect this organization is responsible for the murders of Superintendent Uchiha and his wife and the abduction of Uchiha Sasuke."

Kakashi raised an eyebrow and leaned forward in his chair slightly. "What about Itachi?"

Ibiki didn't say anything, his lips tightened into a tense frown. "Have you ever heard of Uchiha Madara?"

Kakashi thought for a moment. The name sounded a little familiar, but he found no memories of ever meeting the man so he shook his head briskly. Ibiki silently observed him for a moment before he stood, lacing his hands together behind his back and began pacing around the room slowly, pretending to browse the numerous wall decorations.

"Uchiha Madara was a business phenomenon thirty years ago. His companies were vast and powerful, and despite his young age, he was clever. Charismatic, too. A natural leader, apparently. He had no rivals. His talents as a businessman quickly made him the wealthiest among the Uchiha. But he had a darker side. People began labelling him as a ruthless tyrant, and not long after his success reached its peak, he was convicted of indulging in drugs and sex trafficking. Evidences pointed to him being behind countless crimes, some more unspeakable than others."

Kakashi nodded. It wasn't an uncommon story. Wealthy businessman is exposed for being corrupt and depraved, the public is shocked and appalled, the businessman loses everything and the cycle repeats. He'd seen it happen many times.

"Ashamed, the rest of the Uchiha family shunned him. He was sentenced to twenty-five years in prison, but before he was apprehended, he disappeared. They never found him."

"What does this have to do with Itachi or finding Sasuke?"

Ibiki's jaw twitched as he suppressed a scowl. "Not long after his disappearance, crime rates sky-rocketed. The highest Tokyo had seen in decades. Police were beside themselves trying to keep order, and civilians became more and more restless. It seemed like it was getting worse with no end in sight, but when Uchiha Fugaku became superintendent, everything changed. He dominated criminal activity in ways most people had never seen. It was after he lowered crime rates that a rumour began to spread; a rumour that Madara had become heavily involved in gangs and was recruiting criminals for his own means. Fugaku went after him a few times, but he always managed to slip away."

Ibiki approached his desk and poured himself a glass of water, holding the glass without drinking from it. "The secret investigation that Fugaku began before he died was centered on finding and exposing Madara. If he managed to gain a lead and Madara found out about it, well, there's the motive for a murder right there."

Kakashi stared at him. "Why now? Why wasn't this considered after his death? Did anyone bother to accuse Madara until now?"

"Of course they did," Ibiki quipped, his jaw tight, "but there was nothing they could do. All the files Fugaku had that documented everything he knew about Madara went missing at the time of his murder. And like I said, Fugaku didn't tell anyone about the private investigation."

Kakashi's brow dipped in confusion. "Then how the hell do you know about it in the first place? How do you know there ever even were such files?"

"I mentioned Fugaku told his second-in-command, didn't I?" The detective took a sip of his water without breaking his fixated stare on Kakashi. "That was me."

Kakashi's face contorted incredulously. "You? You were Fugaku's second-in-command?" Ibiki fought the urge to smirk at Kakashi's disbelieving expression. "Then why aren't _you_ Superintendent General now?"

"I turned down the position. I'm not suited for the cushiony life of a desk job and letting my underlings do all the work. Don't get me wrong, Fugaku was a brilliant man and hell of a cop, but he wasn't a detective. He didn't have the interrogative mind and natural decisiveness that is necessary for being a good detective. I felt that there were better things I could do if I remained where I am."

Kakashi's thoughtful face watched him carefully. Ibiki continued, "I knew that Fugaku kept his files at home. I also know that those files went missing after he was murdered. Add that to the fact that I know Fugaku had gained some sort of lead, which was undoubtedly _in _those files, and I am 100% sure that Madara and his criminal organization are behind the murders."

Kakashi failed to suppress a snarl. "Detective Morino," he hissed, his fists clenched tightly in his lap, "Are you "100% sure" that this investigation is still dedicated to _finding Sasuke _and not just some excuse to solve one of your only unsolved murder cases? Because we've been sitting here for almost twenty minutes, and so far the only thing you've told me that relates to Sasuke in the slightest is that you believe that Madara is behind it—which you haven't given me any evidence for."

"I already explained to you why I believe Itachi is behind the kidnapping, yes?" Ibiki replied curtly, setting his glass of water down on the desk. "If Madara or one of his lackeys killed the Uchihas, then Itachi is most likely with him, alive and well. If they wanted him dead, they would have just killed him there. But Madara is smarter than that. He probably saw Itachi for the young and brilliant mind that he is, and conned him into being one of his pawns."

Ibiki could tell by the impassive look on Kakashi's face that he wasn't convinced. "Why would Itachi give up his entire life to work for Madara? What could possibly be in it for him?"

Ibiki seemed uncomfortable for a moment, a bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face. It was obvious that whatever his theory was, he didn't want to say it out loud.

"Well?"

Ibiki sighed. "Sasuke," he said, sitting down in his chair again. "That's what's in it for him."

Kakashi's facial expression jumped from confused to incredulous to disgusted and furious all at once. "You don't mean—"

"I'm not saying that," Ibiki cut in, crossly. "I'm just saying that it's the best theory we have so far. It lines up all the pieces to fit together the best."

Kakashi didn't say anything as he slouched in his chair dejectedly, his expression blank and empty. Ibiki watched him closely for a moment, fidgeting in his seat now and then. "Anyway. None of that is why I called you here in the first place. There's something else."

Kakashi perked up, but only a little. He'd had all the disturbing thoughts he could handle for one day.

"This organization of Madara's—naturally, being made of wanted criminals, it is heavily involved in illegal activities. This, of course, means that it interferes with common crooks now and then. Earlier this morning, we arrested a drug lord who apparently has some information regarding Madara's organization."

"A location?" Kakashi asked quickly, feeling his heartbeat speed up. "Does he know where Sasuke is?"

"Not a location," Ibiki replied, raising his hand, "A name. Two names, in fact."

Kakashi leaned back in his chair, urging the man to go on.

"Akatsuki." Ibiki said, folding his hands in front of him. "That is the name of Madara's gang. Akatsuki. Now that we know that, interrogating thugs and anyone else who might have information is much easier."

"And the other name?"

"Hoshigaki Kisame."

Kakashi silently mulled the name over in his head, but it rang no bells. "Who is he?"

"According to the man we arrested, he is a member of Akatsuki and very close to Madara himself."

Kakashi's eyes narrowed. "And how does he know this? More importantly, why was he willing to tell you all this information?"

Ibiki grinned a bit cruelly. "Because he isn't a very smart man. Apparently he has worked with this Kisame in several jobs that included trafficking contraband; therefore it's only natural that he would have this kind of information. However, as I just said, he isn't very smart. He traded the information in exchange for lessening his sentence, but whether he is set loose or thrown in jail, either way, if Akatsuki finds out that he sold the information to save himself, he's a dead man. Madara wouldn't hesitate to have someone like that killed. Not for a moment."

Kakashi was quiet for a long minute. "And you think this will help us find Sasuke?"

Ibiki, for the first time, offered a smile. "I know it will. With this information, we're a stone's throw away from finding Madara. If we find Madara, we find Itachi, and if we find Itachi, then we find Sasuke. We're close, Kakashi. I can feel it. Trust me."

* * *

Sasuke's eyes were open, but all he saw was blackness.

He wondered if this is what it felt like to be dead. He knew it wasn't. You don't _feel _anything when you're dead. You don't feel anything at all. That's how Sasuke knew he wasn't dead.

He felt hands. Countless hands, roaming over his body, coiling around his neck, caressing his back, on his thighs, his stomach, his—

He shifted, willing the fantasy away. It didn't help. He could still feel the hands crawling up his body, gently, cruelly; could still feel the hot sugared breath on the back of his neck. He could smell it, too. Fuck. Not sex—that was different. Sex was hot and sweaty and left a pungent stench in the air that lasted for hours. This scent was _fuck_. It was a distinct, petit smell that sometimes appeared whenever he had hands crawling on him. It slithered through the air like a snake in tall grass; coiled around him and imbedded itself in his sheets, made his head dizzy with an onslaught of blurry memories. He hated the smell, even more than the hands.

He wanted his clothes back. Itachi took them, some days ago. Itachi had taken everything from him, literally. Even the busted bookshelf and the mountain of books inside it were taken away. He wanted his meds. He wanted to overdose on anti-anxiety pills so that the sickening feeling of being numb would lull him to sleep.

His mind was pleasantly blank. He was so thoroughly exhausted that he didn't even have the energy to think. He knew he should get up, have a shower, try and sleep, but the tired ache in his muscles kept him grounded, not to mention he was warm and bundled up beneath the heavy comforter Itachi had given him. He didn't want to move.

He trembled as the hands continued to roam. They were Itachi's hands, he knew. The memory of them, caressing his body in sinful ways—his mind played it out as a physical feeling instead of a visual flashback. A kinetic memory it was called; he read about it once at school—soldiers who lost limbs during war often had kinetic memories of the moment they lost their appendage. A physical sensation. Almost always unpleasant and unbearable.

He would have clenched his fists, but there wasn't even enough strength left in him for that. He had no idea why his eyes were still open, they should have given up and closed a long time ago, when the rest of his body had. But they stayed persistently open, staring into an endless darkness that separated Sasuke from the rest of the world.

He curled up tighter into a ball. At least he had strength enough for that.

The door opened, and as the sound of familiar footsteps loomed closer to him, the hands began to slowly fade off, as did the smell, leaving only a headache in their wake. Sasuke closed his eyes, knowing that it was pointless because Itachi _knew _he was awake, _(knew that he hadn't slept at all since then—knew that he never again would)_ and even if he wasn't, that wouldn't have changed anything.

His brother's hand gently touched the top of his exposed head, rubbing it gently. He gave no reaction as Itachi withdrew his hand and went to the bathroom, beginning to prepare a bath for himself and his brother.

Sasuke could hear the water running in the bathroom and knew what it meant. But he didn't want to leave his bed. He was warm, and even though it smelled like fuck and there were ghost hands molesting him, it was a better fate than the one that waited for him behind that door. Anything was better than that.

Itachi re-entered the room and walked right up to Sasuke, effortlessly tearing the blanket from him and sweeping his naked little brother into his arms, making a mental note of how low Sasuke's body temperature was. He carried him to the tub and set him down inside the steaming water, getting undressed and joining him afterwards.

Like a puppet, Sasuke let himself be handled and washed, simply deadweight in the hands of his older brother. He didn't even flinch when the large hand holding the soapy washcloth began to fondle and stroke his newly-cleaned parts; in fact, he hardly noticed, telling himself it was all the ghost hands, not his brother, not the rapist, just an unfriendly ghost.

Itachi was speaking to him. More like whispering, but even if he was yelling, Sasuke wouldn't hear it. He was dissociating himself from the reality where he sat bathing with his wayward rapist-brother in a basement in the middle of Gods-know-where.

Sasuke wasn't listening. That was okay with Itachi, he knew that Sasuke had cut himself off and was currently untouchable. But that was all right, he had expected that from him, of course. It's not like their pillow talk was important, anyway. Itachi just liked to remind himself that Sasuke was really here in his arms, and not some figment of his imagination.

And Sasuke was so soft. Itachi loved bath time; he loved the feel of his brother's smooth, flawless skin lathered in soap and hot water, tender in his hands. He couldn't resist littering the back of his neck and shoulders with warm kisses. If only Sasuke wasn't hollow on the inside, it would have been so romantic…

When they were both clean and fragranced by the scented soap and shampoo, Itachi carried his little brother, still dripping wet, over to the bed and laid him down. He placed Sasuke gently on his back and tucked a strand of hair out of his face, placing a kiss on his forehead. Then he threw the comforter over his wet naked body and went to clean up the bathroom.

Sasuke was brutally brought back to reality by a violent shiver. He was so fucking _cold._ He wrapped himself in his blankets, curled into a ball and tried to warm himself back up, but it was in vain; his wet hair felt like ice on the back of his neck and the sheets, soaked from his dripping body, clung to skin and did nothing to warm it. His teeth began to gently click together as his body was wracked with waves of shivers. It felt like his insides had been turned to ice.

And then, suddenly, there was warmth pressing into his back—a body. Itachi.

Itachi barely pressed against him—just enough, to let him know he was there, to let him know there was warmth. Sasuke reacted at first by recoiling, but the further away he moved from Itachi, the colder he became, and instinctively he found himself inching back towards the coveted heat of his older brother's _dry _body.

He turned around, his face still buried in the blankets, to face Itachi though his eyes were closed, and pressed the front of his body into his brother's chest. Itachi smiled, his plan a success, and threw his arm and leg over his brother's body to pull him closer and warm him up. Sasuke flinched from the feel of his nudity pressing against him, but he was too numb to care.

He didn't feel the hands crawling up his back, because this time they didn't belong to a ghost.

* * *

_He was sinking in black water. It wasn't really water, he thought, because it was too thick—it felt more like paint, but it was smoother._

_He decided he liked the black water. It pressed against his entire body without suffocating him, something Itachi never seemed to be able to do. It was comforting, like a big warm blanket protecting him from the cold._

_As soon as he thought that, a white hand shot through the black paint-like water and touched his chest; its feel like ice, spreading needles of frost across his torso, so cold that it burned. He flinched and struggled away from the hand, but it followed him, frozen to his body. He felt the heat leap through the black water, away from him, leaving his bare body numb and immobile. He coughed, his lungs filled with ice, his eyelashes heavy as if snow weighed them down. He was so cold._

_Shards of ice exploded through the blackness, embedding themselves in his back. He felt his blood begin to seep from the wounds, mixing with water, thickening it even more. He could taste it, as he breathed in the heavy black liquid, the distinct metallic flavour of blood._

_He stared at the white hand, still frozen to his chest, as it seemed to grow an arm before his very eyes, and that arm was attached to a shoulder, and that shoulder to a chest, and it continued on like that until an entire body had formed; a body wearing the face of Itachi, a carbon copy of his cold perfection._

_Sasuke stared, his own hand reaching forward to skim the chest of his brother's, and once it did so, he watched as the icy layer covering Itachi's skin immediately melted away with his touch. The stark whiteness of his skin returned to its normal peach color; his frozenly stoic face erupted into bright eyes and a shining smile. Itachi said something to him, though Sasuke didn't hear it, but somehow he knew it was a thank you._

_The warmth from his hand spread across Itachi's whole body, down his arm, and to his hand that was still frozen to Sasuke's chest. The hand thawed out, the warmth spreading to its fingertips and across Sasuke's skin, melting away the ice shards in his back, soothing the bleeding wounds. The water became tasteless and Sasuke wondered, for the first time, why it was that he could see Itachi through something so pitch black?_

_Itachi's hand trailed over his skin and wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, his face only an inch away as he closed his eyes to accept the kiss._

* * *

Sasuke was alone again when he awoke. He was also still cold.

Despite trying to avoid it, the rest of the day was spent with his mind jumping back to that dream; to that frozen corpse-like version of his brother, staring at him through hollow, dead eyes…

He didn't want to think about it. He didn't. He _knew_ that face. It wasn't just something his mind had conjured up in a dream—it was _his_ face. The face his brother wore that first night after his run-in with Madara. The face that those ghost hands belonged to. The cold rapist.

Sasuke trembled. The hands were back.

His head felt like it was swollen on the inside; like it was pulsing and engorged. He felt a burning sensation behind his eyes and knew that a migraine was coming. God, he wanted some painkillers.

He closed his eyes, his head snuggled into his pillow, his body cocooned in the thick blanket, as if he was ready and preparing for sleep. But he wasn't. The moment he closed his eyes, he felt his nerves light up painfully, as if each one was being stabbed with shards of ice. It burned horribly from the base of his neck all the way down his spine; and of course, his lower regions hurt the worst, his stomach, lower back, thighs and ass felt like they had been beaten with a metal baseball bat. He clenched his teeth and pushed his head further into the pillow, forcing his mind from his body, away from the phantom hands and growing migraine; away from reality entirely.

And like that, he waited for tomorrow.

* * *

**Author's Note: **You guys are all going to hate me. I had this chapter on my computer for like 3 weeks, 98% done, but I didn't get around to finishing it until now because… I found my new favourite thing in the world. No.6. Have any of you guys seen/read it? It's so freaking awesome! I just want to rant and rave about it forever but I won't, but basically, you guys should all go watch it and then write me pretty Shion/Nezumi fanfiction. Because Nezumi is everything I have ever wanted, and I love him, and every time I see him I want to take off all my clothes and roll around on top of him.

_Ahem_. Sorry. Go watch No.6! School starts tomorrow and it's my last year of high school, so, usually that would slow my updates down _but _I am promising to dedicate more of my free time to working on my fanfictions, because I promised you guys I would have faster updates—and I shall!

P.s. Don't worry guys. I'm not leaving the Naruto/ItaSasu fandom. I love it waaaay too much. :D


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